Rise
by Torrin-El
Summary: He just wanted to be left alone. Alas, he should've known better.
1. I

I

The Injustice League had begun to wreak havoc on the city of Metropolis not ten minutes ago before the Justice League had arrived, Batman leading the charge. They had come at a full-on assault, not bothering to waste a second before engaging in battle. The Dark Knight had taken reign of his team, sending each and every one of them to a certain Injustice League member to handle. All the while Metropolis' citizens were in disarray, some standing in the middle of the chaos only to be carried to safety by the Flash and the others who ran wildly around trying to find their bearings. Of course, there was always the occasional Lois Lane and Jimmy Olsen who stood side by side in a coffee shop snapping pictures and taking notes.

"Jimmy! Are you getting this?!" Lois asked, pen beginning to write violently on her notepad, questions already forming in her head to ask.

"It's kind of hard not to Lois," He sighed, camera snapping pictures furiously. His eye squinted in concentration. Lois would kill him if he took pictures out of focus. He'd been working for her for a year now and knew better than to mess with Lois and her job. He took another shot before pulling the camera from his eye only to look at the scene before him. Flash was struggling to deal with random and clumsy citizens who were getting in the way of the fighting. He also had to deal with Killer Frost on his back which of whom Green Arrow was failing desperately to keep control of. Green Lantern looked to be doing well with Solomon Grundy but that was growing questionable at times. Said Lantern would knock down Grundy but it only seemed to make him angrier and stronger. All the while, Wonder Woman was trying desperately to keep down a furious Gigantica and Black Canary was trying to tame Cheetah who was having a great time messing with the bird. Elsewhere, Batman was trying valiantly to dodge Poison Ivy's vines which were exceptionally more efficient than he'd remember.

"Batman," Wonder Woman said into her com-link through gritted teeth as she continued to pull her lasso tightly around Gigantica's ankles," We are getting overwhelmed. I'd advise we call the others."

"I don't know how but they've severed our connection to the Watchtower," Batman grunted in response as he dived over another poisonous vine," Which confirms Lex's connection to this."

Suddenly Gigantica grabbed Wonder Woman, somehow unraveling herself from the lasso before slamming her into the already weakened asphalt. Her head, which had hit the ground harder than her body, began to spin from the impact

"Wonder Babe!" Flash shouted as he saw her head connect viciously to the ground. He ran to intercept the foot Gigantica was about stomp on Wonder Woman with, catching it within a second before spinning her out of balance. Flash took the moment to examine Wonder Woman, lifting her head cautiously from the asphalt and softly running his hands through her scalp. He saw her wince but when he brought his hand back he thanked God that there wasn't any blood.

After Frost aided Gigantica in rising they turned towards the Flash and Wonder Woman before taking advantage.

In the coffee shop, Jimmy slowed the rate at which he was taking pictures and looked at the fight with his own eyes," Lois, if I didn't know any better I'd say the Justice League was losing. . ."

"They'll come back, Jim, don't worry," She waved it off as Poison Ivy's vines wrapped up both Green Arrow and Batman.

"I don't know . . .," He sighed, wincing when he saw Solomon Grundy slam Green Lantern repeatedly on the ground.

"It'll make an epic underdog story," Lois continued on even as she watched Clayface envelope Atom. Her optimism didn't diminish even when Cheetah pounced on Black Canary. The Justice League was on the verge of defeat, all members on the ground either struggling for breath or consciousness. Wonder Woman saw multiples, trying valiantly to get up but Frost and Gigantica bullied her to the ground while keeping Flash grounded.

"You die," Whispered Gigantica to her before wrapping a hand around her throat. Said heroine tried desperately to escape the woman's grasp but it worked to no avail. She was too weak and her head still spun. The darkness began to close in around her, her eyes rolling slowly to the back of her head.

Then all of a sudden, sunlight broke through her eyelids. Her breath came back to her and her lungs heaved heavily, trying to process the sudden rush of welcomed oxygen. She caved in on herself and began to comfort her starving lungs, which burned with every breath she took. The pain began to subside as her breathing grew more even and her eyes peered open curiously and warily but was immediately blinded by the brightness of the sun. "Wha-?"

"Wonder Babe." She looked over to see the Flash hurrying to her side.

She groaned, rolling on her side, attempting to rise through the pain," I told you . . .To stop calling me that."

"Shh and look," Flash aided her and lifted her slightly so she could see what was going on. Her eyes had to adjust before widening at the sight. Gigantica had been tossed off of her and into the ground, now bound in Wonder Woman's lasso. Killer Frost sat unconscious on top of her. Something fast was moving, flying, almost matching the speed of Flash. Whatever this blur was, it was mowing down the Injustice League. It had moved towards where Batman and Green Arrow were wrapped in Ivy's vines. The blur made quick work of those with a red beam that seemed to come from its eyes. Both heroes dropped to the ground, gaining the breath they had lost. Ivy shouted, enraged, and she tried to capture the flying speedster with her vines. It simply blasted them with a red beam before moving to quickly knock her out. She fell into the blur before being dumped onto the pile of villains in the middle of the street. Cheetah didn't see it coming, making it so easy to take her out and her body was next to go into the pile. Clayface and Solomon Grundy were bigger though and more aware. They stood back to back, forgetting their earlier conquest.

"Show yourself!" Roared Grundy, smashing his fist violently into the ground.

"As you wish." A voice said and suddenly a man appeared before them in midair. Before Grundy could comment or think red beams bore into his chest before he felt himself being pummeled into Clayface. Then before anyone knew it, Grundy stood there, frozen, melded with Clayface's clay, turning them both into statues. The figure, which she know recognized as a man in a hood floated in the air, his arms lying lamely at his side and his legs in the position of flight. He seemed to be admiring his work, eyes working between the unconscious bunch lying on a crater in the ground and the frozen above it, a horrified Solomon Grundy melded into Clayface. All that was left was silence, shocked features gracing the many surrounding bodies. It was after a moment that a flash of a camera broke through silence and he sighed. Quickly, he adjusted his hood and began to float upwards.

"Wait!" Green Lantern began to fly after him but was shot back when the figure tore through the sky at supersonic speeds.

"Woah!" The Flash commented, fascinated. "He's fast."

People started to exit the buildings, hesitantly, wondering if the battle was truly over. They watched as the fallen Justice League began to rise from the debris. Flash aided Wonder Woman, slowly lifting her from the ground to not agitate her already burning lungs and splitting headache. Batman had Green Arrow's arm thrown over his shoulder which of whom walked with a limp.

"Lantern, contact Trevor," Batman said as they all converged around the fallen Injustice League," Tell him to come pick them up and transfer them to Arkham."

Green Lantern nodded, swooping down to help Black Canary to her feet.

"Let's regroup back at the Watchtower. Flash, escort Canary, Wonder Woman, and Arrow to the infirmary."

They all nodded in confirmation but before they could transport to the Tower, Lois came fumbling out of the coffee shop, questions already hurtling out of her mouth. Jimmy wasn't far behind but unlike Lois, he wasn't brazen enough to interview the Justice League after they just got their asses handed to them.

"Can you explain how the Injustice League escaped prison? Would you say someone is helping them from the outside? And who was the figure in the hood? Is he a secret of the Justice League?" She asked, tucking her notepad into her back pocket and pulling out a recorder.

"No interviews," Batman said through grit teeth and quickly transported them out.

"Dammit."

 **. . . . .**

 **Justice League Watchtower –**

"What the hell was that?" Bruce sighed, flopping down at the head of the conference table. Seeing the acting Chairman in his seat the rest of the League followed suite, taking their own designated chair. Viktor pulled up news feed on a holographic screen, enlarged it, and tossed it to the center of the room where every League member was able to see it. Unsurprisingly, footage of the fight was already airing on the news much to their dismay. It was a humiliating defeat. The Injustice League was seconds away from killing them, just seconds. It wasn't as if Bruce wasn't close to death before but this time he was with his team and that was more than what the whole world could spare.

"They were prepared," J'onn stated from his seat, poised, and watching the feed with attentive eyes. " Prepared for the team mainly. It is unlike them to be so . . . Tactful or a team players, by that matter."

After being cleared, Diana, Oliver, and Dinah walked into the room, making their way towards their respective seats.

"Forget that! Did you see that guy?!" Barry asked, practically jumping out of his seat. "He saved our asses but not only that but he disabled the Injustice League in less than a minute."

All the members watched the TV, watching the man move with speed and grace they've only seen the Flash conjure. In just a hood and jeans, he had taken down the Injustice League and the whole world had seen it. 'Mysterious Figure Saves Justice League And Defeats The Injustice League' was all over the news, on every channel, in every language, and every country. This new development was fairly questionable and Bruce crossed his arms over his chest in an agitated manner.

Roy appeared in the doorway, a holographic clipboard between his hands with a video dangerously close to the one the rest of the League was currently watching." It appears so . . . He froze Solomon Grundy in Clayface . . . You got to give him that."

"Hal." Bruce shot Barry and Roy a look that made Gotham thugs quiver on their knees before turning back towards the Green Lantern. "Did you get a tracker on him?"

"Yeah, for a moment," He answered before pulling up another screen and sliding it towards Bruce. Said man eyed it carefully, watching the red dot blink rapidly in one location. "He was moving so fast I didn't doubt it would detach any second. It landed somewhere in a small rural community in Kansas."

"Computer, cross reference images and videos related to today's news feed. Highlight and enhance anything matching the flying figure in the video." Bruce ordered. The computer did as told, pausing the TV, and pulling up holograms around the room, listing different videos, photos, and news articles relating to the mysterious flying figure. The League looked on around them, watching the videos and quietly scanning through articles and photos. The videos were fuzzy and unfocused even after the computer's enhancement, obviously captured on a type of phone. This guy, whoever he was, was strong and durable. Diana watched one video where he stopped a plane from crashing onto the landing, holding it from the underbelly and guiding it down to the strip. Oliver and Dinah were looking at another, where a man flew into a burning building and returning seconds later carrying a girl and her kitten. J'onn on the other hand was reading an article on the figure and his brows rose when he saw the word alien. Roy and Barry were on the edge of their seats while watching the man pummel a rogue military tank. Bruce looked on, seemingly unimpressed.

"You think he's metahuman?" Oliver asked, nodding at Roy.

"If he is, he's ridiculously powerful."

". . . Nothing the government will take lightly," Bruce stated before turning towards Diana, whom of which was engulfed in the videos of this new player. He tilted his head and took note before addressing her," Diana, do you think DOMA or ARGUS could hold off on tracking this individual before we do?"

Diana looked hesitant before nodding. "It may be difficult if ARGUS where to pursue it, along with General Lane and Colonel Trevor but I believe I can draw their attention away with the imprisonment of Injustice League long enough. What are you thinking, Bruce?"

"We need to find out more about him."

They all nodded in agreement.

"Diana, you, Hal, and Barry will continue to look for clues of this guy in Kansas. Meanwhile, I'm going to call Dick and Barbara to patrol Gotham while the rest of us handle the backlash of the Injustice League. Someone call in Shayera and ask her to contact Zatanna. We'll need a lot of hands on deck."

"Well, Toto, it looks like we're going to Kansas," Commented Barry with a smile, slapping Hal and Diana on the back in a friendly manner.

"Who is Toto?" Diana said, her face portraying that of confusion. "I don't recall Bruce assigning anyone else to come along."

Barry sighed. Hal spoke up first with a charming smile," It's a reference to a movie, a famous one for a dog named Toto . . . Maybe you can come see it with me sometime."

Out of nowhere appeared John, who slapped him in the back of the head. "You know she's with Trevor."

"Can't blame a guy for trying," He shrugged.

 **. . . . .**

 **Smallville, Kansas –**

 _A short period later. . ._

"What happened to drawing less attention to ourselves, hmm?" A deep voice asked behind him with slight amusement laced behind his words.

"Shut up, Arthur."

He laughed and began to follow his companion farther into their home. The house itself was small but the amount of land they had inherited was massive on a scale. Much of it was just vegetation and forest. After Johnathon Kent had died no one had really put in effort to tame the ever growing forest. Not that they could. Martha had grown too old and weak, stuck in bed rest, never leaving the house only if to visit the hospital. That was only on the rare occasion. Her two boys had been taking care of her. Anyone could hardly call them boys but to Martha they were her boys and always would be. Some occupants of Smallville had been acquainted with them but nothing farther than that. Some would say their introverted but others believed they weren't on the right side of the law, so keeping to themselves was the answer.

Some people were so right.

"You made quite the impression," Arthur stated with a smile, hands sitting comfortably together behind his back. Ever so elegant thought his brother. "I wonder what mother will think of this."

"She'll think nothing of it," He said in a voice meant for warning." Cause she won't find out."

Arthur merely laughed again.

"Clark, she'll have your ass." With that Arthur dived in the small stream that led towards the house before taking off, his legs kicking at an increasingly fast rate. Clark growled and began to run, his long legs bounding across the fields with long, quick, strides. Of course, Arthur knew he couldn't beat Clark in a foot race but the water was another story.

"You son of a bitch, Arthur." Clark growled, pushing his legs faster, his eyes flicking between the old house and the asshole in the water. They made it in the house in record time, taking them seconds to run and swim three miles. Arthur practically lunged out of the water before running through the door. Clark with one last bound flew through the wide open door and tackled Arthur to the floor. With Arthur being so wet Clark couldn't get a tight hold on him so Arthur darted up the steps, two at a time. Clark flew and was going to tackle Arthur once more but was met with the face of his adoptive mother. He froze.

"Hey, ma." He said softly and looked to see a drenched Arthur sitting in a chair on the other end of the room with a smile on his hairy face.

"Clark, is that you making all that ruckus?" She asked weakly. He smiled at her, moving to kneel beside her bed.

"Yeah, sorry, ma, Arthur got water all over the place and I was slipping," Clark said and left Arthur gaping like a fish out of water. Martha reached out a hand, and stroked the beard forming on Clark's young face.

"Arthur Kent, go clean up that mess you made and dry off," She said sternly. Arthur stood to object but was silenced by the look on her face. Clark waggled his eyebrows at his adoptive brother who narrowed his eyes at him.

"Yes, mother," He grumbled under his breath and began to walk towards the door but not before shouting over his shoulder. "Clark went out and used his powers in Metropolis city! It's all over the news mother."

"Dammit Arthur," Clark growled, making move to rise but stopped when he felt a weak tug at the sleeve of his shirt. He looked at his mother who guided back down to sit on the edge of the bed. She gathered both his hands in hers and brushed back his wild hair from his face so she could look in his cerulean eyes. He winced. He wished so badly to feel her comforting touch but he could barely feel it at all.

"Is that true?" She asked.

He didn't attempt to lie and said," Yes."

Clark waited for the sound of disappointment.

"Did you kick their asses?" She asked.

He couldn't help the amused smile that formed on his face and nodded," You know it, ma."

"Look, Clark, we all know that I'm not going to be on this Earth for long . . .," She was trying to say but he interrupted her.

Clark shook his head at that and tightened his grip on her, careful of his strength," Stop, ma, don't say that."

"No, Clark, we have to face the truth here. I'm not as young as I used to be," She tried to laugh but it turned into a coughing fit. Letting one hand slip out of her grasp he quickly had a glass of water for her. With one last cough, she turned it down, pushing it away. He objected but eventually gave up when she gave him a stern look. "Your father would have never forgiven me if I lied to you about the real world, Clark. He'd scold me and make me feel guilty enough to bake him a dozen pumpkin pies."

"Yeah," Clark smiled softly at the memory," Pa loved himself some pumpkin pie now."

They both laughed softly. It faded and all that was left was a sad smile.

"He also would've had your Kryptonian butt for going out like that but . . . He also would've realized you're a man now and seeing that, that it is he would've told you to be who you wanted to be, to not let anyone define you or tell you who to be. You've grown into a handsome young man now . . . You and Arthur. You both are extraordinary and I know Johnathon would've been proud to see the man you and Arthur have become, as am I," She began to cough and Clark made a move to aid her but she held up her hand," No, no, I'm fine. Just listen. You choose whether to use your power or not but if you do . . . And Lord knows I can't stop you but all I ask of you is to use this power for good. People will fear you because they don't understand you; they won't understand your power. Be patient with them. To some you'll be a God and to others you'll be a terrorist. Show them Clark . . . Show them that you are none of those things, that you are nothing to be feared. If anything Clark, be their hope, their light, their protector, guardian . . . Their Superman."

He laughed and tried half-heartedly to catch the tears before they fell. She smiled at him and stroked his cheek with the pad of her thumb.

Soon enough Arthur came back up, dressed and dried before taking a seat on the other side of the bed. They talked for hours before their mother went to sleep about random things: whether or not if Arthur was doing his chores or skinny dipping in the lake, Clark's adventures and saving the Justice League which turned into the main topic before their mother fell to the grasps of sleep. After she did, Arthur tucked her in as Clark cleaned up the room, picking up fallen pill bottles and books that she's left strewn around the room. Once they were finished, they both kissed their mother on the forehead before leaving the room only to stand in the hallway, adjacent to each other.

Clark let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

"Why'd you do it?" Arthur asked out of nowhere.

"Do what?" Clark leant back on the wall, shoving his hands in his pocket.

"Save them . . . The Justice League," Arthur clarified.

"They needed help, simple as that. If I didn't interfere the Injustice League would've killed them."

Arthur laughed and patted Clark in the shoulder," A natural born hero, my brother."

Clark couldn't help but laugh as well before shoving Arthur back.

 **. . . . .**

 **Smallville, Kansas –**

 _Earlier that night . . ._

"So, this is where the tracking beacon fell off at. Smallville, Kansas. He'll have to be within a ten to twenty mile radius of this place, right?" Hal asked, walking in the diner with Diana and Barry in tow. They tried not to take notice of the amount of people staring at them. Even while in civilian clothes they stuck out like a sore thumb. It didn't deter Hal though, he walked straight towards the bar before plopping down on one of the bar stools and picking up a menu. He motioned with his head for Diana and Barry to join him.

"What are we doing here?" Diana asked, taking her seat. "Aren't we supposed to be looking for someone?"

"We are, Diana, first, we must go undercover to get some information. Even if we were to fly around and try to find the guy he'd probably spot us and take off. We need to get a head start on him first," Hal answered, eyes never leaving the menu. Barry followed him and took a quick peak at the menu. Diana huffed.

"Well, hello there. I haven't seen you in town before. Travelers?" A waitress approached from behind the counter of the bar, flipping out a small notebook and finding a pen in her breast pocket before clicking it.

Hal smiled, that charming smile,"Why, yes, we are traveling. This is my wife, Vanessa, and my son, Jason. I'm Mark. My boy here got hungry and we saw this quaint little town so my wife and I decided it would be a nice place to stop by and get a bite to eat."

Hal put a hand on Diana's shoulder and squeezed. Diana rolled her eyes but caught along. Barry sat in between them, horrified.

"Oh, isn't that nice," The waitress smiled," Well, what would you like to eat?"

They all ordered and once the waitress turned around Diana grabbed Hal's hand and broke it.

"What the hell, Diana?" He looked over at her, trying to school his features.

"My mother would've cut off your hand. I merely broke it. Be thankful," She said in response.

"Why couldn't we just be brothers and sister?" Barry proposed with mild agitation at being introduced as _their_ son. "I'm not that young you asshole."

"Fine," He held his hands up towards the two, conveying defeat," It'll be brother and sister next time but you got to admit, you look a little like Diana and I, Barry."

Before Diana could respond her phone began to ring. She got up from her seat to answer and walked towards the hallways that led to the bathroom.

"Hello?"

" _Hey_ ," She smiled at the voice and realized easily who it was," _Are you ok? I heard about earlier today with the Injustice League."_

"Yes, Steve, I'm fine. It was just a minor injury, thank Hera. And also thank you for asking," She responded, the smile on her face never leaving.

" _I should be thanking the guy that saved you. Man, gov's been going crazy ever since he showed up. We got reporters banging on the front door asking who this guy is. Whether or not he's a 'secret weapon' or something. Crazy, right?"_

"Crazy, indeed," She looked over at Hal and Barry who were motioning that their food had arrived.

" _General Lane is assembling a task force to look for this guy."_

At this Diana paused, brows furrowing," Does he have any leads?"

" _Absolutely none but he's willing to pay people for info. If that doesn't work, he's thinking of other means . . . I don't think he's thankful of this guy like you and I."_

"Well, men like General Lane only usually see through one perspective."

She could hear him chuckle on the other end of the line and she smiled at the sound.

" _You're right,"_ He agreed," _Hey, I also wanted to see if we were still on for tonight. With the whole almost dying thing I thought you might've wanted to cancel."_

"Of course not, Steve. We are still on," She smiled brightly.

" _I'll pick you up at the Embassy at eight?"_

"Oh, no, I can't. I'm . . .," She questioned whether to tell him that the Justice League was looking for this man as well." . . . I'm with DOMA at the moment and we're trying handle the whole Injustice aftermath."

She winced at the lie.

"I don't know how long the meeting will take . . . But I'll meet you there," She said.

" _Of course."_ She could hear his smile and couldn't help but smile herself. _"I'll text you the address."_

"Alright, Steve. Bye."

" _Bye."_

She hung up and made her way back towards her seat to find the waitress and Hal in a deep conversation. Hal looked to her before nodding towards the waitress. Diana took that as a sign to listen and did so as she began to dig into her food.

"So tell me about this Kent farm," Hal stated, digging into his food.

"Well, none of us know that much about it. Johnathon and Martha Kent own the farm, well, forgive me, _owned._ You see Johnathon died some years ago. God rest his soul. Sacrificed himself for a pup."

Hal nodded solemnly," Sounds like a great man . . ."

"Oh, he was," The waitress nodded," Anyway, Martha though, she's still alive. Runs the farm with her two boys, Clark and Arthur. Well, it's more like they run the farm. Martha's sick, can't get out of bed. Those sweet boys take care of her. I met them once or twice. They came by here, hungry as bears I tell you. They're about the size of bears, anyway."

The waitress laughed. Hal sent Diana and Barry a look.

"Would you say they're kind people?" Diana asked.

"As far as I know, yes. They don't come into town as often as you think they would and even if they did they don't talk to anyone. Too busy on that darn farm. I wish they did though, they are most definitely not bad to look at," She smiled before leaning in and whispering," Some of the towns folk believe they're criminals."

"Why's that?" Hal asked, elbowing Barry in the elbow when he was practically scarfing down his food at a fast rate. He slowed down.

"They simply don't interact with anyone and keep to themselves. They stay on that farm but people are already calling it a lost cause. Why do two boys spend so much time on a farm when there are no crops? They have animals, sure, but they take care of themselves on their own."

"What were their names again?" Diana asked, taking the last sip of tea from her cup. The waitress asked if she'd like a refill but Diana politely refused.

"Clark and Arthur Kent. Martha took them in at a young age. She was so kind to take in two young boys like that and raise them up as her own."

"Wait," Hal stopped," Took them in? They were adopted?"

"Yes, Martha found Clark practically at her doorstep and John found Arthur floating in a crib on the shore of the Atlantic when they went on vacation."

"They sound like such kind people," Diana commented with a smile. The waitress was going to continue when a patron from another table called her over.

"Well, I have to go it seems. It was nice meeting you folks."

"And to you as well," Hal smiled.

She walked off.

"So," Barry gulped down a large bite," Are we checking it out?"

"Seeing as she adopted these two I'd say it's worth it. Something seems off about it all, you know. Diana, you in?"

"Seeing as I'm here with you two, isn't it kind of obvious?" Diana responded. Hal held up his hands in defense. "Sorry. I just need to be somewhere soon."

"And where's that?" Barry burped.

"None of your business," She stated.

"Mhm. Let's go you two." Hal threw the money on the table and quickly drank the last sip of his coffee.

 **. . . . .**

 **Kent Farm –**

 _Later that evening. . ._

Diana, Hal, and Barry had arrived at the Kent Farm later that evening. They took the liberty of transporting through flight and flew high enough that no one would notice. It took them longer than usual as both Barry and Hal argued over who was going to carry who. Barry had wanted Diana to carry him, Diana had proposed for Hal to carry him, and Hal didn't want to carry anyone. In the end, Diana's frustration took over and she took off with Barry in her arms.

Now, they walked down the straight path that led to the house.

"Hal, you check the barn. Barry, check the field. I'll go see if anyone's home. If you get nothing we'll meet back here at the gate."

They all nodded before separating.

 _Diana . . ._

She marched up the steps of the home, the steps creaking under her weight. She winced at the sound and decided to fly up the rest before approaching the door. She brought up her hand to knock but hesitated. How would she approach this? Calmly? Diplomatically? Or force him to talk? Well, it most definitely wouldn't be the latter.

"I suppose I'll act accordingly," She thought to herself before giving a firm knock. She wouldn't have expected the door to open. Either she knocked too hard or the door was already ajar. She placed her hand on the door and pushed it open farther to get a better look. To her surprise, the place was kept well. She was honestly expecting a mess with two boys looking after the place. Walking in further, she looked around. It was simple with rustic furnishings but there was beauty in its simplicity. Diana ran her fingertips over a table filled with different pictures. One had caught her eye. She picked it up. It was two boys and she averaged their age to be around twelve. One was shoulder deep in a lake with long dirty blonde hair and smiling brightly at the camera. Next to him was another boy with black hair that didn't travel past his ears compared to the other blonde boy whose hair was almost touching his shoulders. Unlike the other boy, this one was crouching down next to the one in the lake with a sort of witty smile. Diana turned the picture over to find something written on the back.

 _Clark and Arthur – First Swimming Lessons_

She turned the picture back over and glanced at it once more before setting it back down. Her eyes skimmed over the rest of the photos, seeing similar pictures of the boys together throughout the years. The pictures abruptly ended with them as teenagers. There were no pictures of them as adults. Diana thought that interesting. Then something out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. She moved towards the little counter top to see a ton of letters, all regarding medical bills. Diana shifted through them. All of them were about treatments and payments. None of them opened. Some of them were ripped straight down the middle, some were burned, and luckily some were still intact. It didn't take a detective to see that the treatments these hospitals were offering were very expensive and by the looks of the place Diana was in, it didn't seem as if they had the money. She continued to skim through the letters but was interrupted when she heard something fall upstairs.

She tilted her head and proceeded to float upstairs.

 _Barry. . ._

Barry was exploring the grounds and he had to admit there was a lot of ground to cover. There'd been nothing but corn, everywhere. Of course there was the forest and lake behind the barn but Hal had that part covered. He was just exploring what seemed to be an endless field of vegetables. Nothing but cob after cob after cob, he sighed. He decided to make things fun and see how many times he could run the entire grounds. He nodded to himself and took off. A smiling came to his lips as he felt the wind rush against his skin. There was nothing but field. This was an ideal place for him and dreamed to have a place like this to himself.

Abruptly his thoughts and run were interrupted.

There was someone up on that hill, standing over what seemed to be a single grave. From the distance Barry was he could tell the person was male and most definitely built. He was tall as well, Barry noted. Maybe this was the guy from earlier. Of course the guy from earlier had a hood on but Barry compared them both and their bodies seemed the same. He seemed to be having a moment. Mourning maybe, Barry thought but then the figure's head snapped up and he looked towards a certain direction. When Barry blinked the figure was gone.

He made a move to contact Diana and Hal through the com-link but for some odd reason it was jammed. Barry looked around frantically. He had to find Diana and Hal immediately but soon realized that he was in unknown territory.

"Oh, shit." He was lost.

 _Hal. . ._

Hal yawned before stretching his arms. The meal from earlier was catching up to him. Now he desperately wished to take a nap. Yes, he nodded; a nap would be incredibly nice. He scratched his stomach as he continued to search the barn. He thought it trivial. There was obviously no one there as far as he could tell. No one but cows. He had searched through every stall and behind every hay bale. He had even searched the attic which had been turned into a bedroom. There was nothing but books, some clothes, shoes, and a bed in there, nothing that would've led them to the person he was looking for. The only thing he found interesting was a big ass trident that lie against a wall with all the other tools. He had played with it for a little bit, spinning it in his hands and tossing it into a bale of hay. It went straight through and lodged itself in the barn wall. Hal winced and quickly grabbed the trident before setting it back to its original place.

He was about to call Diana and Barry when something, more like someone had caught his eye.

There was someone standing on the dock of the lake, looking over it. It was man with long, blonde hair, and a very muscular back, Hal noticed. He couldn't see anything farther than the back but he noticed that the man might have the same build as the guy who saved them but didn't look the same. Hal was beginning to walk towards the man but before he could do anything, the man dived in the water.

Nothing out of the ordinary with a man swimming, Hal thought, so he decided to wait on the edge.

 _Diana. . ._

She was on the second floor of the Kent home and zeroed in on where the sound had come from. Diana stood in front of the door. Something felt off about all this and she was hesitant to go in the room. Why? She didn't know. Hell, she didn't even know what was behind the door. It took her a minute to remember that she was _the_ Princess of Themyscira, Champion, and Daughter of Queen Hippolyta. With a burst of energy, she opened the door with no hesitation.

What she found could not have been predicted.

An old lady, which she assumed to be Martha Kent had accidentally knocked over a glass of water and was struggling massively to get it. She had still been lying down and was reaching with one arm, hoping to grasp the glass. Diana approached slowly, hoping not to scare the woman.

"Hello?" She tried. "Mrs. Kent?"

Martha looked up from what was she was trying to do and smiled at her guest. "Oh, hi . . . I wasn't expecting any visitors today. Neither Clark nor Arthur told me of any . . . Well none that I recall. It must've slipped my mind which I must say is not as good as it used to be. Are you with Arthur? He's been telling me about a young girl he'd met recently. Oh, I forget her name."

Diana smiled in return," No, Mrs. Kent. I cannot say I am with Arthur."

Martha's smile got brighter," So you must be with Clark? Oh, isn't that wonderful. I've been hoping he'd bring a woman for me to meet one day. He's always been so brooding and lonely. I've honestly wanted him to have someone other than just Arthur and I for company."

If this was the only way she was going to get answers then so be it. She walked closer and couldn't keep the smile off her face," Ah, yes. I was looking for Clark but when I was looking I heard something fall up here."

"Yes, I'm sorry, I was trying to reach for my glass of water but then I accidentally knocked it over."

Diana looked at the cup on the floor. " Let me help you with that, Mrs. Kent."

"Please, call me Martha."

Diana grabbed some nearby towels and began to wipe the mess up while placing the cup on the nightstand. Once done with that, Diana threw the towel away before rising from her crouching position. She then poured Martha another glass of water before handing it to her.

"Here you are, Martha," She smiled kindly. " I'm Diana."

"Thank you, Diana," Martha took the offered cup before taking a sip. She then set the cup on the nightstand before adjusting herself on the bed.

"Might you be able to tell me where Clark might be?" Diana asked. "I've been looking everywhere for him."

"He's usually in the barn at this time, working on that damn truck. Stubborn as he is, he won't stop," Martha laughed but soon it turned into a coughing fit. She covered her mouth and turned her head from Diana.

Diana, being the kind spirit that she is, stepped closer and laid a hand on Martha's shoulder," Are you alright?"

"As best as anyone could be at my age." She continued to cough.

All those unopened letters popped into Diana's head. "Clark's been telling me about your condition. He says it's gotten worse. He said he can't afford treatment."

She would most definitely scold herself for her choice of actions later. She could practically see Bruce's smirk right now. She doesn't even begin to dream of what her mother would think.

"If only," Martha sighed.

"What do you mean?" Diana asked, concern lacing her voice. She had only known this woman for a short period of time and she had found herself caring for this woman's wellbeing. Bruce would call her naïve. The bastard, she thought. She turned her attention back towards Martha.

"You can't cure dying, sweetheart. I'm getting old. Simple as that. Clark's stubborn self refuses to believe that."

Diana only to hear such news but to also feel something shift behind her. She thought she had met wall at first but she was surprised to find this wall _breathing_ , breathing heavily at that she noticed. She could feel the wall's chest move with every deep and _angered_ breath it took. She could most definitely tell whatever or whoever was behind her was livid. You simply do not impose on someone's personal space with the intent to say hello, she deduced. Not only could she feel its chest move against her back but she could also feel it's breath on her neck; it's heavy, warm, breath as it rustled the small hairs there. It's warmth enveloped her, something she wasn't familiar with, the sense of being taken over. And it's scent was wild, filling her senses and almost making her go dizzy. If she hadn't known any better she'd say the wall behind her was a beast, some sort of monster. No, she recognized. It wasn't.

She turned around.

It was just a very enraged man.

"Oh, Hera." She whispered under her breath as her connected with a very defined chest. She noticed all too quickly how her eyes had to travel up, something she wasn't accustomed to. Standing in front of her was a six foot, five inch, livid man. He was barely an inch away from her and she was so very conscious of that fact. She could feel every fiber of muscle on him that pulled and flex at the rage coursing through him. The heat and warmth she felt radiating off of him added on to the effect of his anger. His hands were clenched into fist and she feared he'd impale his hands with his own nails if he clenched his hands any harder. Her eyes moved on towards his hairy jaw which was clenched and locked in a tight angle that practically dripped with anger. He almost looked set in stone with that look. It didn't help that she had to look up at the man to meet his eyes, which were, to her surprise, _red_. His irises weren't just red; his whole entire eye was red and beaming. She honestly hadn't predicted the fascination that bore through her. He was probably expecting her to fear him. With that thought, she could feel her own agitation prickling at the thought that he'd dare try to frighten an Amazon, nonetheless the champion. She tilted her chin higher, a wave of unfamiliarity hitting her once more at the act, and returned his gaze dead on with determination.

"Oh, Diana, it seems you found him." Martha commented from her spot on the bed. From the angle she was at she couldn't see past Diana. She could only see Clark's wild and untamed hair.

Their eyes never left the others.

"Yes, Martha, it seems I have."

"Clark, your girlfriend and I were just talking about you," Martha commented, completely oblivious to the bubbling anger boiling between the two. The only thing preventing them from going at it right now was the fact that Martha was in the room.

Whoever this Clark was didn't miss a beat, Diana noticed.

"Hey, ma," He said through teeth that never separated," _Diana_ and I must go. I had promised to show her the lake behind the barn."

"Oh, of course," Martha waved off with a smile," You two lovebirds go on . . . And Clark if you find Arthur tell him to come see me. By the way, Diana it was so nice to meet you. You should come by more often."

Diana schooled her features before turning around to address Martha again with a smile," It was a pleasure to meet you as well, Martha."

 **. . . . .**

 _Elsewhere. . ._

Barry had finally managed to find Hal sitting near the edge of the lake, snaking on an apple he'd manage to find. Hal glanced at the speedster before taking a big bite out of his apple. He looked hysterical, Hal noticed.

"What's up, Barry?" Hal asked. "And why are you running? Why didn't you just contact me through coms?"

"That's what I'm trying to tell you . . .," Barry was steadily trying to take deep breaths. He was bent over, hands on his knees, and trying to breathe through his nose.

Hal laughed," Out of breath, speedster?"

Barry was out of breath but not for the reason Hal thought. "No . . . Hal, you don't understand . . ."

"Just spit it out," Hal rushed, taking another big bite out of his apple.

Barry took in a deep breath," I saw someone . . ."

"What? Where?" Hal stood at this and began to look around. "Why didn't you tell me earlier? Hell, why didn't you tell me through coms?"

Barry rolled his eyes before growing frustrated," Shut up, Hal! For fuck's sakes! What I'm trying to tell you is that I saw someone who look just liked the guy who saved us. I was going to contact you through coms but somehow their jammed. The guy took off before I could do anything. I knew something was up so I ran all throughout the fields looking for you and Diana."

Hal's amusement from earlier immediately fell and concerned graced his features.

"That's odd . . . ," Hal turned to look back at the water," I just saw someone –"

Suddenly a man began to rise from the water before them with a trident in his hand, looking royally pissed. Hal recognized the trident from earlier and now began to look at the man wielding it.

"Oh, shit," Barry whispered as large scaly tails whipped out of the water to yank him and Hal into it.

 **. . . . .**

 _Meanwhile. . ._

She found herself being slammed harshly into a tree by none other than the six foot six caveman. He had barely been able to contain his anger when they both walked out of the house and Diana had been mildly impressed by the amount of self-control he carried with him. It was that or the fact that he didn't want to be anywhere near his mother when he was like this, Diana thought. He had begun to walk towards the dense thick forest located behind the barn but not before at least decimating one thick tree with his fist. That didn't deter her steady pace alongside him though; she was set on showing that she did not fear him. They had continued to walk, farther and deeper into the forest, and Diana had grown curious as to when they'd stop and actually talk. The silence was deafening but she had taken the time to admire nature's beauty all around her. It had been awhile since she had set foot out of the city and part of her had missed the greenery. She had looked up to see a group of birds fly overhead. Diana had to admit, everything was so serene with the exception of the fuming man walking next to her. It was increasingly evident when she felt two hands grab her hips and throw her against the trunk of a tree.

Two arms, almost the size of the tree trunk behind her had surrounded her from either side and two blue cerulean eyes stared deeply and angrily into her own.

"I am warning you, right now, next time you set foot on my property or tell my mother lies nonetheless talk to her I will become the threat your team believes me to be." He said. Diana had no doubt that if she were some other ordinary woman she'd be shook by the baritone of his voice. She simply was not.

"I doubt you brought me all the way out here just to warn me," As she said this, her sword began to materialize in her hand. He moved to grab the hand which held the sword but was knocked back through the air when a shield materialized on the opposite arm.

She watched as he landed into a large tree and they both went tumbling onto the ground.

He groaned, wiping at his nose when he felt something wet trickle down onto his lip. He looked to see the blood before his eyes flickered towards the shield and sword she had wielded. Diana couldn't hear all of it but she could see that he said something about magic. She began to walk towards him and he watched, his mouth slightly agape as her Wonder Woman armor began to materialize on her body.

"As you wish, princess."

 **. . . . .**

 _Elsewhere. . ._

A crocodile had Barry and Hal in a choke hold under water, preventing the two from swimming to the top. The two were thrashing about wildly, attempting to fight off the beast when they both knew they didn't possess the strength to do so.

So, in other words, they were screwed.

 **. . . . .**

 _Meanwhile. . ._

It had begun to rain on them, making the dirt underneath them slowly transform to mud.

Their battle was of epic proportions and the rain did nothing to deter them in their fight. With every clash, thunderous sounds echoed throughout the night, his heat vision even emitting a screeching sound when it made contact with her shield. They fought with equal amounts of strength and fervor but soon enough she found his flaw. He didn't know how to fight hand-to-hand which would explain why he continued to try to get her in grappling and wrestling positions which she effortlessly escaped. She could tell by his attacks that he was growing angrier. It only made him sloppier. He depended on brute strength while she used a combination of all her skills. Which ultimately led to his fall. He watched with wide red eyes as she descended down onto him, using her shield to send him back down to Earth.

He knelt down in the middle of the crater. It took him a minute to rise which surprised him to say in the least. He looked up at the edge of the crater when he heard the smacking of boots in mud to see her standing there in all her royal glory. His hair, separated in parts, dangled uselessly in front of his face, slightly blinding his view. The same went for his long sleeved grey Henley which was a size too big and hung loosely onto his body. His pants and boots were already ruined with the amount of water and mud covering them.

She looked down at him from the edge of the crater and lightning cracked across the sky behind her.

They both knew who the better was.

With a sigh of defeat, he propped his foot on the uphill of the crater and held his hand out towards her. He was conceding, she noted. She tilted her head at that. For the short amount of time she'd known him she wouldn't have expected him to give up. She was slightly disappointed that the fight was over; he was such a formidable opponent she thought. Looking into his eyes, she finds his cerulean eyes genuine and soon offers him her hand.

To be quite honest, he might've known she was better but that didn't prevent him from trying.

She watched as his eyes slowly turned back to red.

He yanks her down into the crater causing her to land on her back. Standing over her, he yanks the shield from her arm and tosses it out of sight. He means to grab her sword next but she rolls over, making sure to trip him in the process before stabbing it in his lower stomach. She stands immediately, preparing herself for another attack. He roars in pain and she's startled by the ferocity of it. To her surprise, he yanks the sword out immediately and tosses it like he did the shield but in another direction. Using the distraction to his advantage, he grabs her ankle and pulls. He uses his super speed to stagger to his feet to slam her on the ground. She lands unceremoniously into the mud.

Whatever energy he had diminishes and the pain sets in. He stumbles to the ground next to her, hand clutching his wound.

And for a while, they just laid there, letting the rain fall down upon them.

 **. . . . .**

 _Meanwhile. . ._

Green Lantern emerged from the water with a crocodile in his arms with the Flash latched onto its tail.

"Flash, let go of it!" Hal demanded, struggling to hold both.

"But then I'll end up in the water where there's more!"

"You can outswim them, you dimwit!"

Arthur couldn't help but laugh at their banter from his position in the water, his hand mindlessly stroking the underbelly of another croc.

 **. . . . .**

 _Elsewhere. . ._

A groan came from her left and she looked to see this Clark rising, hand clutching his side. Diana growled low in her throat before tackling the man. It was a weak tackle because of her sore back but enough to put him on his ass. Both Diana and Clark then began to wrestle for dominance on the ground. At this, Diana noticed, he was more proficient at compared to hand-to-hand. He had somehow managed mid-tackle to gain the upper hand and get on top. Without hesitance, she head butted him. Great Hera, she had groaned. She regretted that immensely but it seemed to have some effect on the thick skull of his, giving her a moment to crawl away from his grasp. She had gotten nowhere in the time it had taken for him to get back up. She tried to kick his chest but he had grabbed her ankle and dragged her towards him. Diana attempted to back hand him. He dodged easily and grabbed her wrist. With her other free hand, she grabbed a nearby branch only for it shatter into multiple pieces against his head. It did absolutely nothing to faze the beast.

With a growl erupting from his throat, he grabbed both of her wrists and pinned them above her head. He then moved to straddle her, sufficiently pinning her down with his hips. That did nothing to deter her will as she continued to struggle against him, fighting with her all to get him off her.

He grunted when he felt the heel of her shoe digging into his butt. "Stop fighting."

Lightning cracked across the sky and the rain seemed to fall harder against them.

"Never," She said through grit teeth and continued to try and free herself from him. Diana tried again for another head butt. He moved back, avoiding her attempts and took the time to watch her thrash about uselessly, frowning while she did so.

"Your pride is blinding you, princess. The fight is over," He said to her in a calm voice, as if they hadn't destroyed the forestry surrounding them in an attempt to outmatch each other. Still watching with her with slight indifference and confusion, he wasn't surprised to see her brows furrow in anger.

"How dare you, you wretched man?" She spat at him and bucked her hips in an attempt to throw him off. He grunted but didn't budge. "You started this fight-"

"And now I'm finishing it," He stated firmly, gripping her wrist tighter for emphasis. They were so close, Diana noted and she wasn't naïve to not know what kind of position they were in. She recognized it from some of the books she read but it was usually the other way around with the woman's legs wrapped around the man. It was odd to her. She had never been in an intimate position like this, not even with Steve. They'd share a shy kiss every now and then, a hug or two but that was all. To have this man on top of her in such a way sent a slight blush to her cheeks. She could feel the growing familiarity of his warmth, even with the cold rain, and the strength of his body as he breathed heavily against her. To be in close proximity with such a strong not to mention handsome being, it sent a new sensation through her, one she could not recognize. It didn't help that his soaked and shredded clothing had hung haphazardly onto him. His Henley shirt was hanging on to him by a loose thread and his jeans, were gratefully just cut down into shorts with rips here and there. He had noticed but hadn't been bothered by it. She on the other hand was another story. His sweaty, wet, hairy body had some kind of effect on her but she couldn't find the right word to describe it. His nearly wet naked chest which brushed against her own with every breath he took didn't help her lost for words. She sighed. Hera, if her mother saw her now.

He seemed oblivious to her thoughts but he wasn't oblivious to the blush creeping on her cheeks and the way she wouldn't make eye contact with him. With his free hand, he grasped her chin and forced her to look him dead in his eyes. He began to say, "I shall rise off of you . . . And then you _will_ leave and never come back."

With one final glance into her eyes he rose from her and began to walk away.

". . . And if I chose not to leave?" She shouted back before rising herself, using one hand to push the wet strands of her hair out of her face.

He continued to walk at his steady, calm, pace. She found it undoubtedly endearing.

"I won't hold back next time, princess."

"If you believe me incapable of taking you in a real fight then you are sorely mistaken."

He paid her no heed and continued to walk but soon paused, his ears flicking upwards. His hearing zeroed in on the sounds of screaming and gunshots. He looked up at the storm clouds and sighed. Diana watched on in silent admiration as he used his heat vision to mar his flesh together, not even wincing when doing so.

"Rao," He breathed in and took off into the skies, making sure to stay close to the ground but high enough to avoid the trees. Much to his dismay, she was behind him. He growled low in his throat, he had no time to tell her empty threats. It was useless and _she_ , he thought, was utterly insufferable. He tried desperately to avoid her on the short trip but it was so difficult. She was so close to him. It was irritating but he didn't find himself doing anything about it.

A moment later, they arrived on the scene. Bank robbery, Clark noticed. Twenty hostages. Seven assailants, all equipped with pump action shot guns. Cops were surrounding the building. One point of entry.

Diana watched with intense curiosity as to what he would do next. His eyes were moving frantically as he played every possible scenario in his head.

Then, before she knew it, he was gone.

She looked towards the bank. He was in there and was out within seconds. The criminals sat outside the bank, gagged and tied together. The police had slowly lowered their guns, obviously confused as to what happened before taking action. They split, some moving to check in with the hostages and others moving to cuff the criminals who were just as confused as the officers. She smiled in slight amusement but was startled out of it when she was met with a pair of blue, agitated, eyes. Diana met him head on, challenging him. She was growing tired of his scare tactics.

"I'm not leaving you until I get what I came here for," She said firmly defiant. Any effect she had on him, he didn't display in his features.

His eyes narrowed. "I hope you know my brother is drowning your friends."

She tilted her head. "They can handle themselves."

He floated closer to her before growling, "Leave. Me. Alone."

"I only wish to talk, Mr. Kent," She sighed. She wasn't going to give up and he knew it. He was growing frustrated with fighting her and tired as well. It was honestly the first time he thought that. He'd never grown tired before and it was a new experience he didn't want to indulge in. He began to fly back home, she followed swiftly with a victorious smile.

 **. . . . .**

 _Moments later. . ._

"Ten minutes," He said gruffly as he ascended the ladder to the attic. She simply floated alongside him much to his annoyance. Diana was curious as to where they were headed until she saw the bed. _The caveman's room_ she thought. She tried to stand to her full height but kept hitting her head on the ceiling. She looked to see how he was positioned and followed suite. He had his back turned to her but still failed to hide his snort of amusement. She narrowed her eyes towards his back.

"How do you manage this place?" She asked, noting the books that lay everywhere and the clothes that hung loosely on the dresser. It was a mess but looked like a purposeful one at that. She looked around a little more and picked up one of the books that lie on the floor. She read the title, _How_ _To Kill A Mockingbird._

"Sorry, if it isn't like your royal quarters, princess," He said and she was going to chastise him but lost the words as soon as he pulled his ruined shirt off and tossing it away. It was like someone knocked the breath out of her. He was stripping before her and she found it incredibly hard to tear her eyes away. It was like he was carved out of stone and was given flesh. He was so rigid and sinewy. He was built like a god but Diana was sure she would've heard of one on Earth. Maybe something of a young Adonis, she questioned. He was just so large, taller than her in fact which she wasn't accustomed to. She found her bottom lip caught on her teeth when she saw his shoulders flex violently as he jerked the dresser open. It wasn't like she hadn't seen a muscular body before. She saw plenty after training sessions at the Watchtower and occasionally at the public gym. This Clark Kent had put them all to shame, including Steve.

By the Gods, Steve.

He turned slightly towards her when he heard her heartbeat spike above its normal pace. His brow raised and she felt her heart thud violently against her chest when she saw eight rows of hard muscle line his stomach.

"Hera, help me." She breathed, trying desperately not to follow the trail of lightly wet hair going down the middle of his abdomen." Wha-What are you doing?"

"You ruined my clothes."

He was making it exceedingly difficult for her. With every move he made caused a ripple of muscle to flex among the smooth expanse of his skin. Of course, he was almost oblivious to her struggle, only picking up on the intakes of breath and her ragged heartbeats. Shaking his head, he opened his drawer to see a pair of black jeans.

She watched as he pushed his ruined pants down.

Immediately, she turned around, horrified, and began to float down to the bottom floor.

"Shy are we, princess?" She could hear the amusement behind his voice and wished that she had something to throw at him. _The insufferable beast,_ she thought.

"Will you stop calling me princess? You know my name, use it," She demanded, slightly frustrated with herself for letting this caveman affect her in such a way.

"And if I don't?" He shot back and she could hear the familiar sound of a zipper.

". . . I could simply tell the world of your existence, from out previous encounters I suspect that it would displease you greatly." She'd never stoop to such a low but he didn't know that and it was evident when she found herself against a wall with a half-naked man standing less than an inch in front of her, his eyes blazing red and his muscles twitching with obvious anger. It instantaneously faded when he felt a cool pressure land on his bare chest. Looking down, he was almost surprised to see her hand, pressing up against the center of his chest and almost choked on the air he was breathing. It took a moment for his mind to register that her hand was on his chest. He froze. He could _feel_ her; feel her skin on his own. He hadn't realized it earlier when they were fighting because she had mainly been using the shield and sword but now, nothing was separating them. He could feel the cold emanating from her hand, feel the small indentations of her fingers and the slight piercing of her perfectly manicured nails. He could feel the rush of her blood through her veins and he almost fell before her on his knees from his knees being so weak. He had to adjust his stance repeatedly to keep from falling against her, moving his hands farther from her head and bringing him slightly closer to her. Rao, he breathed, trying to savor the feel of their current situation, almost groaning in satisfaction.

To be quite honest, Diana only did it because she had the idea that he was going to attack her once more and her instincts kicked in. She hadn't realized she'd done it until it was noticeable on his face and how tense he turned. Nevertheless she couldn't help but feel the strong beat of his heart beating against her palm, the warmth of his skin, the rough material of the light coating of hair, and the way his chest moved with each heavy breath he took. Hera, she breathed and immediately tried to retract her hand. Tried and failed, he had grabbed her wrist and brought it up to his face. She could tell he wasn't simply looking at it by the way his eyes traveled over it. He looked intrigued, fascinated in a way and Diana wondered what he was seeing. What was so interesting about it, she'd pondered. She held back the shiver when she felt the pads of his fingers run down the length of her fingers and the base of her palm.

She cleared her throat before asking, "What are you doing?"

His eyes shot from her hand to her eyes. "Seven more minutes, princess, I suggest you use them wisely."

Hesitantly and with yearning, she noticed, he let go of her hand and backed away. Finally, Diana began to take back the breath he had stolen from her.

He grabbed the plaid, button-up, shirt he had dropped earlier and threw it on his shoulders. A sigh of relief came from behind him and he couldn't help the slight smirk that tugged at his lips.

"So, Mr. Kent," She continued and he rolled his eyes.

"Clark."

She seemed to adjust to the name before continuing," Why do you keep calling me . . . Princess or is that your usual representation of a woman?"

He stared at her for a moment, buttoning up the last few buttons. "Cause you are one."

"How do you figure?" She asks and listened intently. If he didn't know any better he'd say she was interested in his answer.

"I took an interest in you."

She paused, hesitating before asking, "You mean the Justice League?"

"No." He shook his head with a slight frown.

She raised an eyebrow, "Why?"

His eyes never strayed from her. Diana had never met someone with such intense eyes apart from Batman but something about this Clark Kent was different. He wasn't trying to intimidate her, just simply looking at her. "Are these the questions you really want to be asking me?"

She was so tempted to whip out her lasso.

"It seems that these are the questions you don't want to answer," She shot back with a new air of confidence and moved from her position on the wall, crossing her arms in the process. "So, yes, Clark, these are the questions I really want to ask."

He fought the small smile tugging at his lips and let his eyes drift elsewhere.

"I did my research. It wasn't hard figuring out that Diana Prince was Wonder Woman especially since the only thing dividing the two is a pair of glasses. You two arrived around the same time as well. And seeing as Diana Prince is the head of the Themysciran Embassy that not only represents the Amazons that inhabit Themyscira but also matters that involve Wonder Woman. Add some research on your culture and mythology and everything just . . . connects," He begins to move farther into the barn, picking up miscellaneous items as he does so and throwing a dirty towel over his shoulder. Diana followed closely behind. He turned for a brief second, catching a bit of worry in her eyes. He didn't know what it was but something in him wanted to ease her worries. "Don't worry, princess, I don't care enough about your secret to tell anyone. . . "

She breathed out a sigh of relief. He continued, "My taking an interest in you . . . Well, to see someone with similar powers as my own not being persecuted or hated was in a way comforting."

They arrived at old beaten blue truck. The wheels were missing and a significant part of the engine lie on the ground. She watched as he grabbed a hook which connected to a conveyer belt and attached it to the piece on the ground. He dusted his hands on his jeans, wiping the slick grease he had contracted and went towards a handmade pulley system. Using one hand, he pulled along one of the chains, lifting the car piece from the ground and letting it hover six feet above the ground.

"What do you mean persecuted?" She asked, she had accepted his answer but couldn't understand where he'd come from.

His shoulders slumped as soon as the question left her lips but didn't respond.

"Is that why you choose to hide?" She watched him with every question and knew she'd receive every answer through his body language alone. "You're afraid that if you come out of hiding people will be afraid . . . That they'll persecute you?"

No response.

She began to reduce the distance between them and his shoulders tensed. "I'm sure that if you turn yourself in, the Department of Metahuman Affairs will aid yo-."

"Yeah, but that would imply that I'm human," He said finally, turning towards her, "Which I'm not."

It took a moment for Diana to digest but then she understood.

"You're not from this planet, are you?" She asked.

He simply shook his head in response before shoving his hands into his pockets.

"That would explain a lot," She tried and was rewarded with a small smile that she could tell he hadn't meant for her to see. He ducked his head and with one hand scratched the back of his head. For some odd reason she found it adorable.

"Is your brother an alien as well?"

"No."

She shifted and his eyes flicked towards her, "What planet are you from . . .?"

His jaw clenched and instead of looking down at his feet like before he looked towards the window where rays of sunlight were projected into the barn and shown on him. He closed his eyes for the briefest moment and let the rays shine on him. If he didn't have a shirt on Diana would've been able to see his wound fully heal, mending itself back together the right way. Slipping his hand under his shirt, he felt for the marred flesh but only came in contact with smooth skin. Diana noticed. She didn't bother to question it though; she was already reaching far enough. They both knew it was past seven minutes. He was indulging her; she didn't want to take advantage of that.

Breathing in, he turned back towards her with brighter eyes, "Krypton."

"Why aren't you there?"

"It was destroyed."

Before she could respond her phone rang, loudly, and he narrowed his eyes at her hip where the annoyance came from. His head tilted and he used his x-ray vision to see the Caller ID. His brows furrowed when he saw the name Steve Trevor.

"Excuse me a moment," She said, holding up a finger before picking the phone and bringing it to her ear. He waited for her reaction, wanting to know who this guy was to her. Brother? She came from a land filled with women who wouldn't take kindly to a man stepping on their island so obviously no. He knew damn well it was probably a love interest. With her beauty, he had no doubt. Catching himself in his thoughts, he paused. This newfound curiosity concerned him. Why he was so interested he did not know which concerned him the most.

She looked at the phone and cringed, flexing her hands in frustration. He raised an eyebrow.

"Hello," She answered and ran a hand through her still drying hair. His eyes followed the action.

" _Hey, are you ok? Is something wrong?"_

"Yes, I'm fine, why do you ask?" She's aware of the blue eyes watching her and refused to meet them.

" _It's past eight and you said you'd meet me here."_

"Oh," Diana had forgotten all about it, "Yes, I'm so sorry. The meeting was running longer than I thought and it escaped my mind. I'm getting ready as of right now and I'll be there shortly."

" _Oh, ok. I'll see you in a few then?"_

"Yes, I'll be there," She smiled and ignored the irritated huff coming from her left. Looking up, she watched his retreating form leave the barn. After giving one last goodbye, she hung up and followed.

 **. . . . .**

He took a seat on the weak porch which protested with a groan and creek. Adjusting himself so he wouldn't fall through, he put half his weight on the railing to balance it out. He sighed when he felt the railing move back and forth. Just another thing to fix, he thought. He'd get Arthur to do it.

"I must be going."

He nodded in response, watching her approach and squinted as the sun rays reflected off her Wonder Woman armor. Her hair had dried but hadn't returned to its curls much to his disappointment but he found that it didn't deter her beauty. He didn't think it'd be possible to do so. She was so gorgeous, so effortlessly beautiful. He knew he wasn't the first to think that. Hell, that Trevor probably beat him to the punch but damn, he sighed, she was a sight to sore eyes.

He'd never say it aloud though.

"Brother!" A voice boomed to their left and he smiled when she jumped. She turned to see a shirtless man dragging two familiar unconscious bodies alongside him. "I have found these two trespassing on our land."

"They're with her." Clark nodded towards Diana and Arthur looked towards her. He bowed towards her in acknowledgement, his dirty blonde hair falling in front of his face as he did so. She nodded in response.

"At least one of the Kent brothers knows how to greet someone." She found herself saying and Clark raised an eyebrow towards her. Arthur barked out a laugh.

Diana was granted her first look at this Arthur and was impressed with his stature as well. He had long blonde hair that flowed freely past his shoulder and a beard almost as thick as Clark's. His eyes seemed to be as blue as the sea. Along his body were tribal tattoos and a shark tooth connected to a string hung around his neck. Unlike Clark's, his chest was hair free but he also seemed smaller.

Arthur looked towards Clark who nodded. He then threw the Barry and Hal at Diana's feet. The two groaned and began to cough up small amounts of water, clutching their lungs while doing so. Diana looked at them and rolled her eyes before poking Hal on his shoulder.

"Hmm?" He groaned in response. Arthur moved next to his brother, leaning on the opposite side of the railing.

"Do you think you are capable of flying back?" She asked. He nodded weakly and tried to activate his ring. Much to their dismay, it failed. Diana sighed before turning to Barry who was still coughing up water. She knew she'd have to carry them both back to the Watchtower for checkup, then she'd have to go back to them Embassy to clean up and prepare for her date.

Clark looked at her for a bit and could see the inner struggle. She really wanted to go on that date. He didn't know what it was but some part of him that he thought lost and gone had said, "We'll take care of them. Go on your date . . . Or whatever the hell that was."

She looked up at him from her crouched position, her blue eyes looking towards him with hopeful surprise. "Oh, no, it's fine. I need to-"

" _Go_ , Diana." He growled and she was taken aback by the use of her first name.

"Are you sure?" She asked and his eyes ignited in irritation. Looking towards his brother, she saw him nod. "Thank you."

"Don't thank us," Arthur said in response with a knowing smile, "I mean . . . I did try to kill them. The least we can do is take care of them."

She gave them a skeptical nod before rising in the air.

"Princess."

She turned towards the infuriating beast.

He looked up at her, "Don't come back."

 **. . . . .**

 _Minutes later. . ._

Using his x-ray vision, he looked towards the two men still lying on the ground and sighed. "They'll be fine in a couple of minutes."

Arthur nodded, not necessarily caring but acknowledging that he heard him. He had grabbed two beers, popping both open on the edge of the kitchen counter before returning to the porch. Clark, never looking away from the sunset gladly accepted the cold beverage. They sat in silence for a couple minutes with the occasional groan from Hal and Barry here and there. It was nice, the silence. Peaceful. The wind slightly picked up and began to wisp through the corn and hay fields, making seem as if the world was whispering. The old swing behind the barn creaked softly and made a knocking sound as it hit the back of the barn wall. The lake Arthur spent most of his time in never disturbed, the creatures lurking beneath preparing for slumber. The steady heartbeat of a sleeping Martha Kent echoed through both of her boy's ears and it never strayed.

On his fourth beer Arthur broke the silence, placing his beer on the porch and dusting off his pants, "I tucked mother in. She should be good for the night. If she wakes up I'll get it."

Clark nodded in response, bringing his second bottle of beer to his lips.

"Those bills . . .," Arthur hesitated and Clark tilted his head in his general direction, "They're getting worse."

He turned back towards the sunset. "I know."

Arthur nodded, pausing for a second as he remembered a question that came to mind. He turned to Clark with a wry smile and a raised eyebrow. "So, I was stuck with those two idiots . . . What happened between you and the gorgeous Wonder Woman?"

"She wanted to talk," He replied with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Mhm," Arthur's brows furrowed. "So, why did I find a shield at the bottom of my lake? Hmm?"

He pulled out a golden shield, which Clark immediately recognized, covered in water and dirt.

Taking another sip of his beer, Clark said, "She was talking with ma, you know how protective I get of her and we kind of wrecked the some of the forestry beyond the lake . . . I'll clean it up and make a greenhouse."

"She carries a sword as well, you know."

Grumbling, he muttered. "You're going to look for that."

"Why me?" Arthur asked, not satisfied with looking over many acres of forestry for a sword with all the other chores he had to do around the farm.

"It has magical properties." Arthur groaned and leaned back against the porch. Clark smiled slightly and watched as the last of the sun's rays diminished behind the curve of the Earth. He wondered what she was doing in that moment, what she was wearing. Was she having a good time? Had she dressed to impress? Did she go in her Wonder Woman outfit? Did he accidentally leave a bruise on her and she was trying to cover it up? He hadn't meant to hurt her, just scare her off. Ma taught him better than that and he winced at the thought that he'd actually hurt her. Was this Steve Trevor comforting her? He was curious as to where he'd taken her. Maybe it was somewhere fancy and out of his price range. Or maybe they were at his place. Rao, he hoped not. The thoughts whirled in his head like a tornado, violent and stirring. His concern was growing quickly, mainly as to why he was so concerned with what she was doing. He had only been with her for an hour or two and she already found a place in his mind, making a home in his thoughts.

"What is on your mind, brother?" Arthur said from behind him, no doubt with another beer in his hands.

Clark knocked against the golden shield sitting between them, before taking a long sip himself, "Her."

Arthur's brows raised," And why, pray tell, is Wonder Woman on your mind?"

"She touched me and I . . .," He hesitated, feeling for the area on his chest that her hand had graced earlier,". . . I felt her."

 _Her warmth, the softness of her skin, the slow, steady thud of her heartbeat._ He breathed in through his nose and tried desperately to remember exactly how it felt in the moment she did it.

"What are you going to do about it?" Arthur questioned with a small, wry smile on his bearded lips.

Clark shook his head, glancing up briefly at the stars which begun to emerge in the night sky before turning towards his brother. He began to pick at the wood with his finger nail.

"Nothing. Once these two wake up, we're disappearing. They got lucky putting a tracker on me. It won't happen again."

Arthur nodded.

Suddenly, before he could respond Hal shot up from his position on the ground, hand immediately going towards his mouth and stomach. Both Clark and Arthur looked towards him with an amused and slightly irritated look.

"What happened?"


	2. II

**II**

 **Washington, DC -**

 _The Next Day. . ._

Lois Lane sat eagerly in the front row seat of the press room, notepad sitting absentmindedly on her lap and her recorder dangling loosely on the front pocket of her jacket. Her partner, Jimmy Olsen, sat next to her, not exactly as excited as she was but nonetheless prepared for the upcoming interview with the Justice League and the US Army General, Sam Lane, who was to represent and answer for the government. Currently, the press room was overflowing with reporters, which of whom were hustling to prepare for the brief interview on the topic of the new flying figure soaring not only in Metropolis but seemingly all over the world.

"You alright, Lois?" Jimmy asked, checking his camera. He watched as the leg not holding up the notepad bounce up and down with barely containable energy.

Looking away from the door on which both the Justice League and General Lane were to enter, she turned towards him for a brief moment. "Yeah . . . Yeah, why do you ask?"

"Well," He began, setting his camera down to the side so he could address her directly," It's nine in the morning and you haven't had one cup of coffee yet you have the energy of a hyperactive child. You've seen the Justice League a thousand times, interviewed them a dozen. What's so special about today? Is it your dad?"

"Jimmy –," She started but was interrupted when Richard White practically ran towards the seat next to Jimmy, fighting through crowds of reporters, journalist and news specialist. He practically beamed when he saw the empty chair next to Jimmy and carefully lifted the camera as to not sit on it. He put his bag down in front of him, adjusted his tie, and ran a hair through his combed hair.

"Hey, guys, what's going on?" He asked in a rushed, out of breath tone.

"They're holding a brief meeting with the Senator in the back to clarify some things and no doubt come up with some lies for us to spread," Lois answered, leaning back in her chair with a huff, but not before sending one final glance towards Jimmy who was busy toying with the camera. He pretended not to feel her gaze on the side of his face.

"It'll be better than nothing which is all we've gotten," He commented, reaching into his bag only to bring out a recorder and notepad. He reached for the pen in his left breast pocket and began to go over the questions he was meaning to ask, writing down small notes on the side if something came to mind.

"Excuse me, ladies and gentleman, please take your seats. The conference will start momentarily."

Lois breathed in, readying herself and ignored all the hustling behind her. People were practically racing to their seats and quickly began to prepare for the meeting, eliminating unnecessary questions and prioritizing the few questions they knew they'd be able to ask.

"Jimmy." Lois said, her eyes never leaving the stage as to which the Justice League and her father were to grace moments later.

He perked up. "Yes?"

"Stay out of my personal life and work on focusing your camera shots."

He nodded slowly with a sour expression on his face, his heart beginning to clench unnaturally in his chest.

 **. . . . .**

 _Minutes Earlier. . ._

"So you mean to tell me neither parties knew of this man?"

Batman who was standing tall at the forefront, face clear of any signs of intimidation or pride, nodded in response to the question. Wonder Woman, Green Arrow, Cyborg, Green Lantern, Flash, the Martian Manhunter, and Black Canary stood almost lifelessly behind him but never straying from profession. The rest of the League had been assigned to patrol from the Tower orbiting Earth.

"No, Senator Kelly, we did not," General Lane finally answers.

He nods, flipping through multiple papers before addressing them once more. "The public doesn't know what to feel about this new . . . Development; whether to fear him or love him. Seeing that public safety is one of our highest priorities I suggest you think of a solution quickly. General Lane has already told me of his task force to find and arrest him. What of you, Justice League?"

"Nothing." Batman responded much to the Senator's surprise. The members of the League stood by him, never wavering from their positions, showing no doubt in their decision.

"And why's that?"

"Haven't you heard the slogan Senator?" Batman asked, his demeanor never changing from the indifference written on his face. "Don't poke a sleeping bear."

"We don't know who this guy is, Senator. Yes, he may have managed to take down the Injustice League but what if one day he decides to turn those powers on us, the people?" The General asks, narrowing his eyes at the Batman. He seemingly wasn't fazed.

Wonder Woman responded, "Then we'll handle it, General. Like we always do."

"Like you handled the Injustice League?" The General shot back and all the League members turned towards him, professional stances gone and menacing glares in place. Steve placed a careful hand on the General to back off for a bit. He simply shrugged it off.

"Maybe next time they show up we'll call you. Let's see how that plays out, General," The Green Lantern said, earning a slight elbow from Black Canary.

"Enough!" The Senator demanded, gathering the attention," The General has a point. The last time the Justice League made an appearance they almost died. What would've happened then would've been beyond our hands. Alas, the League also has a point. Majority of the battles we have fought have been won with the aid of the League and we were blessed in such a situation to have them or all would've been lost. I trust the Justice League's judgement so seeing that as it is . . . I terminate your task force and your bounty, General."

"You cannot do that, Senator." The General objected, voice rising in anger.

"I can and I just did," The Senator rose from his seat and began to pack his things," Have a good day."

 **. . . . .**

 _Present Time. . ._

The room practically went in uproar when the Justice League followed by a disgruntled General Lane and Steve Trevor stepped out on stage. They took their respective places, the League on one side while General Lane and Steve on the other. A podium with a small microphone sat in front of all of them at a respective distance. Cameras snapped furiously at them and questions were tumbling out of everyone's mouth at a face pace. Batman stood in the middle of his team, unfazed whilst some of the League members winced slightly from the onslaught. Green Arrow and Wonder Woman, which of whose secret identities were used to such publicity, stood alongside Batman, mirroring his clear and set features.

"Please, sit down. All of your questions will be answered shortly," An announcer stated and at that the crowd began to calm. As soon as the room began to quiet down the announcer continued. "Now, we can begin . . . You, there, you're first."

"Lois Lane, Daily Planet. My question is directed towards General Lane," She began, looking down at her notes, missing the small glare sent her way by her father. "Is this new flying figure an experiment of the government? CIA, FBI . . . The military? Special Forces? Are they connected in any way?"

General Sam Lane stepped up towards the podium, his mustache turned up in slight irritation," No, the government or any of the organizations you just listed had no idea that this man existed. The archives show that we have never heard or encountered this being. He is, like to you, an anomaly."

She turned her recorder towards the adjacent group," And what about you, Justice League, did you know of this man?"

Batman answered with a simple," No."

"Next question," The Announcer spoke up and noticed a hand farther into the crowd. He waved towards the reporter, prompting the other journalist and reporters to silence.

"Catherine Grant. Reporter. Question is directed towards both. What do you plan on doing with this flying savior?" The female spoke with as much confidence and strength as the previous reporter, Lois Lane.

Seeing as Batman was already standing in front of the microphone, he answered, "Until he shows any signs of violence towards innocent civilians, we shall not bother him or provoke him by any means."

General Lane held back rolling his eyes and leant forward, not even bothering to step forward, he quickly muttered an unprofessional, "What he said."

Deciding not to dwindle on the subject, the Announcer continued. "Next question . . . You there, next to Miss Lane."

"Hi, thank you. Richard White, also from the Daily Planet. My question is addressed towards both parties. Do you have any idea who he is? Where he comes from? It's not every day that a savior falls from the sky," Richard asked, recorder aimed towards the middle of both podiums. He looked on eagerly, waiting desperately for an answer. Beside him, Jimmy Olsen took his time snapping pictures much to Lois' annoyance. Inside, he took it as a small victory.

Batman nodded towards the General to answer first. The General sighed and stepped forward once more. "No. We have no idea who this man is or where he comes from."

The General stepped back as Wonder Woman stepped forwards, looking Richard dead in his eye as she began to answer. "We believe that-"

Suddenly, she could feel his eyes on her, those blue cerulean eyes watching her intently and she hesitated, her words catching in her throat. Yes, there were dozens of possibly blue eyes watching her but his were different. As to what made them so different, she'd ponder later but for now she'd focus on finding them. Her eyes stole away from Mr. White for a moment and began to scan the crowd thoroughly. He was here and somehow she knew it. Her heightened senses tried desperately to zero in on him, where he was located in the vast crowd but there were too many people, too many smells, and heartbeats. She might not have been able to see him but she knew for a fact he was there, in the crowd. He was waiting for her answer, as were the others, but he was waiting solely to see if she'd expose him. Apparently, she hadn't earned that sort of trust from him. Threatening him with exposure was probably what triggered it. Looking towards J'onn, she conveyed her thoughts to him, who, in return, nodded. Immediately, the Martian Manhunter, created a mental link throughout them all.

 _Is he in here?_ He asked.

She nodded. _Yes._

Batman tilted his head and immediately looked over the crowd as to where the source was. _We wait to see if he makes a move. Continue to act accordingly._

"Wonder Woman?" Richard inquired, waiting patiently for her to answer and scooting closer to the edge of the seat.

With one final glance through the crowd, she turned her attention back towards the reporter. "Like General Lane, we do not know who he is. And all we can hope for is that he continues to stay on our side. . ."

With that the Justice League along with General Lane and Colonel Trevor were guided off stage and behind the curtains of the auditorium. From there they could hear the shouts and protest of reporters and journalist, begging for more answers, answers they didn't have. General Lane was noticeably disappointed and slightly embarrassed with the lack of information they held and took a seat in the corner of the room, pulling a large cigar from his pocket and lighting it. He leant back in the chair and began to contemplate what he'd do now since the Senate shot down his idea to hunt down the flying anomaly. Cyborg and J'onn took a break away, stealing from the group to check in on the Watchtower where the Shayera and Zatanna were on watch, doing only God knows what. The Batman was nowhere to be seen. Green Arrow, Green Lantern and Black Canary took to the refreshments that lie on a table no farther than a few feet away from them. Wonder Woman made to go get a bottle of water when she was intercepted by Steve. He grasped her arm in a professional manner, still conscious of the reporters in the other room. She turned towards him, eyes flicking briefly to the hand that held her elbow and the crowd of info hungry reporters no less than twenty-five feet away.

"Can we talk?" He asks cautiously, wary of the General's eyes on him and motions with his other hand towards an empty hallway.

Shooting one last glance at her fellow teammates, she nods. He doesn't take her hand but she watches as he fights the urge, his hand moving slightly towards her but immediately shoving itself in his pocket. Flexing her own hands, she follows behind him into the quiet and hollow hallways. She watches as he pauses, shoulders tense as he turns towards her. He waits a moment and makes sure to put a respectable distance between the two of them.

"You alright?" He turns towards her, one hand still shoved in his pocket and the other lying against his leg. "You kind of froze up back there."

"Yes, Steve, I'm fine." She gave him a small smile of reassurance. "You honestly need not to worry about me as much as you do. Need I remind you that I am Wonder Woman, Princess of Themyscira, blessed by the Gods and Goddesses of Olympus?"

He chuckled softly and shook his head, the smile never falling from his face. "No . . . I am fully aware. The tiara usually gives it away."

She smiles in response and he immediately beams.

"That's not the only thing I wanted to say," He continued, absentmindedly rubbing his jaw with a hand he pulled out of his pocket. "I wanted to thank you for the wonderful time last night. Hadn't had fun like that in a while . . ."

"I, as well. It was nice to get out of a Watchtower for a while nonetheless the Embassy. I hope we get another opportunity to do it again."

"Speaking of . . . How about next week? There's the Ambassador's Charity Ball. I would be honored if you'd go as my date . . .," A teasing smile graced his features.

"I'm sorry Colonel Trevor but aren't you dating Diana Prince?" She asked, her face contorting to something of confusion. "It would be horribly rude for me to go with you when you already have a woman who I am sure is willing to go as your date."

At that he began to stutter, trying half-heartedly to hide the amused smile. " Oh, yes, right. Of course. Please forgive my ignorance, Wonder Woman."

"All is forgiven." She smiled in spite of herself. "If it's worth any consolation . . . I have a feeling she'll say yes."

He smiled brightly. "I hope so."

Alas, before their conversation could continue, Steve's phone rang. He quickly apologizes before digging into his back pocket for the device. Taking one quick look at the Caller ID, he slides the flashing green icon to the right before bringing it up to his ear and answering curtly. "Colonel Steve Trevor."

Wonder Woman took a hesitant step back, trying half-heartedly to limit her senses and give him his privacy but faltered when she heard something on the other end of the line.

" _Good morning, Colonel. This is Major William Banks. I hate to interrupt whatever business you were attending to, sir, but last night we recorded drastic disturbances in the atmosphere, 39.0119° N, 98.4842° W."_

Steve's brows furrowed for a moment indicating that he was in thought before shaking his head. "That's over Kansas. Have you contacted Air Force General Fife?"

" _Yes, sir. He said they had no flights scheduled that night. There was a severe thunderstorm and all scheduling was canceled or null. Recordings show that this anomaly was matching speeds faster than any birds we have. Whatever it was came into contact with the ground at one point, creating a severity of 5.5. Any other recordings or data we've received if you'd wish to know would require you to come in."_

Steve breathed," I'll be there."

Removing the phone from his ear, he hung up and quickly shoved the phone into his back pocket before turning towards the woman adjacent to him.

"I have to go. They need me at base."

She nodded, already knowing they'd call him and tried to keep the obviousness from her face. She knew what those disturbances were simply because she was the cause of it, whether triggering a man with immense power or simply engaging in battle with him. Either way, she was there and she knew what happened. What caused an earthquake severity of 5.5 and which likely defied the speed of sound. She questioned whether to tell Steve but, of course, why would she? She was fond of him, she held a special place for him in her heart but she couldn't associate those factors into the equation. Right or wrong, she was divided. Steve was a great man, morals high but when it came to this man, this Clark Kent, she pondered his reaction. She knew from experience that Steve was a kind man and paid mercy where mercy was due. She also knew that he wasn't the highest ranking officer and said officer sat few feet away, with an already boiling hatred and ignorance towards Clark. General Lane had power, command over Steve and Steve's army. If given the order to capture and cage, would Steve following willingly like the soldier he was, or follow his heart in what's right and wrong. Still, looking over to where General Lane sat, smoking an overly large cigar between his bottom lip and the gray freckled mustache that rested on his top lip, she sighed and pursed her lips. Until she knew more, an excuse she wished to compel herself with but the lasso prohibited, she would keep her mouth closed.

Steve, oblivious to her raging thoughts, shot a glance at all the people in the open area not only fifty feet from them but his gaze landed pointedly at the lax looking Sam Lane. Everyone on the League knew her romantic affiliations with Colonel Trevor, along with her identity so technically, the only person they were hiding from was already suspicious. She could tell he was conflicted and to ease him, she placed a hand on his and squeezed before walking away.

"I'll call you tonight." He said and with that, they separated. Steve marched professionally over to General Lane and they both exited, leaving through the back where a beige hummer waited for them. Wonder Woman made her way towards her teammates, who were all preparing to transport back to the tower. Batman stood in the middle, his cape draped across him in a way that made it look like he had no body and just a head with long pointed ears. He watched her approach, his steely eyes narrowed and focused.

"I have to return to Gotham. My com will be on, if I'm needed." He spoke, his voice betraying nothing as to why he was needed there but nonetheless, they nodded.

Cyborg stepped up; large metal hands on his hips and the Flash stood buoyantly beside him. "Flash and I are free. Need any help while you're there?"

"No but you can join Shayera and Zatanna at the tower." The two young heroes nodded happily, bright and energetic smiles on their faces.

Green Lantern took few steps forward, his mildly large arms over his flexing green chest. "John called. I am needed at Oa but my com will be on."

Both Canary and Green Arrow made themselves known. "We're going to go check in at Starling. Other than that we'll be at the Watchtower."

"I am needed elsewhere." J'onn spoke, his cape fluttering behind him.

"I, as well, am needed at the Embassy." Wonder Woman spoke, looking them all in the eye respectively. "If you need me I will be available. I expect to see you all tomorrow morning at the tower. Anything else?"

They all shook their heads in response. At that, they all went their separate ways.

 **. . . . .**

 **Maragogi, Brazil –**

 _Later That Day. . ._

The two Kent brothers had left a day after the incident on the farm with the obvious intent of returning soon. Things were getting too heated and they needed to back off for a while. Before they left, they had transferred their mother to a hospital that could watch her for a couple days. It costs them the little money they had but it was worth it. It was a nice place though. Their mother definitely needed the time out. And in the end no one would know. If the Justice League returned to look for them they'd get nothing as to their whereabouts. Arthur had hid all their valuables and all the items that could connect to them at the bottom of the lake in a tightly sealed container. It had all taken six hours to accomplish before they left towards the Atlantic. With the help of Arthur's girlfriend, wife, whatever the hell she was to him, they were able to score a small apartment above a bar on the beaches of Maragogi; which led them to their current predicament, which was Arthur downing bottle after bottle of beer and Clark chilling leisurely next to him while sipping on a drink that had absolutely no effect on him. It tasted good nonetheless.

The TV which was propped up in the corner of the room was spewing news in another language. Clark had quickly translated the language and looked on quietly, occasionally looking at the other patrons who were enjoying themselves immensely. Arthur looked on as well, not nearly as immersed as his brother but catching on when something caught his interest.

Picking up his tumbler, Clark nodded towards the door. "Your wife's here with her groupies."

"Shut up." Arthur shot him a look before turning towards the door to indeed see his wife with her band of followers, all dressed in civilian clothing and not in Atlantian garb. He easily recognized them to be some of Atlantis' Guardians sent to the land to protect her of course. Not that she actually needed protection. She was deadly all on her own.

"Orin, my love," Was her greeting when she saw him, her eyes gleaming with longing.

Arthur all but drunkenly galloped towards her, his long legs practically bounding towards her. Clark smiled slightly as the King of Atlantis tripped over a table or two trying to reach his wife. Patrons of the bar glanced briefly towards him before going back to their own business. Arthur didn't care if he was making a fool of himself. He hadn't seen his wife for months. It was an understandable reaction. Finally, once the he reached her, he wrapped her up in the biggest and tightest hug, spinning around for emphasis on how much he missed her. At the sight of their King, the Atlantis' Guardians bowed for a brief moment, acknowledging their King but all the while not drawing too much attention to themselves.

"How are you, my dear?" Mera asked, laughing for a moment while she was spun wildly in the air by her husband. She kissed his forehead and made her way down to his lips. Arthur smiled when he finally felt her lips. He missed the taste of the ocean.

After a good minute or two, he reluctantly broke it off, content with leaning his forehead against hers, "I'm fantastic now that you're in my arms."

"Hmm," She sighed, breathing in his scent while she brushed his long locks out of his face, "It's been so long."

He laughed heartedly with a bright smile. "I come to see you once a month, my love."

"Too long," She murmured before letting her lips capture his again. He never let her go, not even when he slowly began to walk back to the table he was occupying a few minutes earlier. Clark watched the two with slight humor as they never came up for breath. Being the King and Queen of a lost city underwater has its advantages. These two made perfect use of them, Clark mused, watching Arthur lower himself down without even looking to seat the both of them. Clark, seeing that there wasn't a chair beneath him, kicked one underneath them so they wouldn't fall. Arthur, still in his lip lock, gave him a thumbs up.

He shook his head, grabbing for his tumbler.

 **. . . . .**

 **London, England – Themysciran Embassy**

 _Meanwhile. . ._

Diana sighed, opening the door to her office, placing her coat on the back of a chair, and walking further into the room. She most definitely did not feel like doing paperwork all day. She had taken the day off yesterday to spend more time with Steve which was amazing but the paperwork seems to have piled up, leaving a large stack of unopened files on her desk either dealing with international business, DOMA, or interviews. No one else could do it, she kept telling herself. She had titles and along with that came responsibilities; responsibilities that she needed as of right now to get to. Alas, her mind couldn't stop wandering to Steve and all the time that they've spent with each other over the past couple of days. After their a couple days ago, he had asked her if she's like to go to the park one day which she happily agreed to. That one day was yesterday and it had been very eventful. They had walked for most of their time there, engaging in small talk and admiring the children playing in the grass, smiling every now and then when one had stumbled in such an adorable way. Afterwards he had taken her to the theater to see a play. It was utterly delightful. She had enjoyed herself fairly well and told him all the details of her enjoyment on their way to the restaurant. It was of the fancy variety, very expensive. When dinner was over he offered to walk her back to the embassy which she didn't hesitate in agreeing to. Along the way they had continued to talk, never bringing up anything work related. Just talking about anything and everything. Once they arrived at the Embassy, he gave her a small kiss on her hand. Some part of her had desired something more and before she knew it she had tugged on his suit jacket and brought his lips to hers. Unlike their other slow kisses, that one was a bit passionate and as her hands found his neck she made sure to watch her strength. She pulled away first and watched with a smile as he tried to gather his bearings. After pulling himself together he whispered a goodnight to her before leaving.

She knew it wasn't love, not yet at least, but with every passing second she felt herself falling.

"Good afternoon, Miss Prince." Diana was abruptly brought out of her thoughts when Julia, her assistant, walked into the room. Gathering her reigns, Diana smoothed down her skirt and took a breath. Back to reality.

"Afternoon, Julia." She smiled politely towards her.

"I'm here to catch you up on what you missed yesterday," Diana nodded. Julia continued, "First up are Bruce Wayne and Oliver Queen. You have brunch with them this weekend at Hi-Collar. This week we are to host the charity gala. The invites have already been sent. Your mother also sent word that she'll be visiting for a week or two. We've also received an invite to an Art Opening and a Magic Show, the latter being hosted by a Miss Zatanna Zatara. . ."

Diana was more than surprised in the least. Bruce, Oliver, her mother, and Zatanna all in the same week. That was going to be more than interesting. Nodding, she turned away from Julia, seeing that as all.

"There was also a note left for you yesterday."

"From whom?" Diana began to make her way towards her desk, head down while checking the emails she had received on her phone.

"Uh," Julia was hesitant and looked at the note once more, remembering the exact moment she was given it," He said you knew him by the name 'Insufferable Caveman'."

She froze.

 **. . . . .**

 _Elsewhere. . ._

It seemed like hours before they separated but turned out to be only five minutes. When they did separate, Mera's eyes found Clark's who was sitting casually across from them, feet propped on the table and a halfway empty tumbler dangling loosely in his hand.

"Kal," She acknowledged, hands sliding down Arthur's body as she moved to her own seat. Arthur gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before returning his attention to the whole table and not just Mera. He watched with the gaze of a King as the Atlantis' Guardians took a seat elsewhere in the bar, always keeping an eye on their Queen.

Clark's brow rose at the use of his birth name. It wasn't the first time she had used it. He had almost forgotten she didn't like to use fake names. Give her one and she'd stick to it. It was odd at first when she called Arthur, Orin and he, Kal but he'd eventually gotten used to it. They were in hiding for so long he almost didn't remember that they didn't have to hide from her.

"Your Majesty," He greeted in response, bowing his head slightly. "How fairs the sea?"

It wasn't like they didn't like each other. They did but sometimes it was jokingly tense between them. Mera had disliked Clark for the first couple of months she knew him, only because he was another part of Arthur's life that she wasn't a part of. Clark had felt the same; he had almost hated her because she was part of Arthur's life that he was barely acquainted with. It took them awhile to understand it but when the time did come they came towards a truce for Arthur's sake. They didn't want to split him down the middle; they wanted him to be happy. The consensus they came to lasted ever since and Clark made the sister he never had. Mera felt the same, treating him as if he was the annoying younger brother she never had as well. She had taught him how to hold his breath for an exceptionally long time, far beyond his own unnatural capacity. In return, he had dug out an extra part of the lake behind the barn for her when she came over. It wasn't often though; she had her royal duties, a lot at that since Arthur wasn't there to aid her. He promised her though, that he'd one day come to rule Atlantis with her but not while their mother in such a state. Mera had understood and never questioned his decision.

"It fairs well," She smirked, running a hand through her wild red hair before leaning back in her chair, placing one muscular leg over the other. "Tell me of the skies, Kal-El."

A semblance of a smile fights its way across his lips before he breathes in, as if he was floating in them in that exact moment, "Clear and free, as always."

They both stood with a laugh erupting from the both of them and hugged from either side the table. He hugs her tightly and he receives almost the same amount of strength from her. She was one of the few people he didn't have to hold his strength back from which was part of the reason he missed her so. If this was any ordinary human he could've broken their spine. Mera will probably just walk away with a slight bruise.

"I'm surprised you're not taking to them," She said, the bright smile never leaving her face as they both returned to their seats. Once doing so, Arthur wraps his arm around her, savoring every moment he had with his Queen. "Arthur told me of your . . . Heroics."

"Rao, not this again," Clark sighed with irritation. With two fingers, he motions for the bartender to get him another drink.

Watching his reaction, she laughs, "Do not worry, I'm not here to scold you on it . . . Although, I am here to scold you on this Wonder Woman you haven't told me of. Arthur says you and her hashed it out in the forestry."

"Playing the protective sister card, are you?" Clark avoids and shoots a glare towards Arthur who just shrugs in amusement. "And besides it was yesterday, I've been busy."

"You could've told me over the phone on your way here." She tilts her head. Arthur watches on, sipping at the large cup of beer.

He rolls his eyes before leaning back in his own chair, jaw set with agitation. He already had Arthur on his ass about it, now it was her and she was so much worse. Clark had learned this the hard way when he had started to date Lana and didn't tell her about it. She had his ass lapping in the water.

Running a frustrated hand through his messy hair, he muttered angrily under his breath.

"It escaped my mind at the time."

 **. . . . .**

 _Meanwhile. . ._

 _Princess,_

 _Must be a very important date for you to forget these. . ._

She looked towards her desk to see her shield and sword, sitting in her chair, cleaned and glimmering in the afternoon sun. Her sword sat in the straps of her shield which lie against the arm rest in her chair. Slightly flabbergasted, she looks back towards the note.

 _-Insufferable Caveman_

 _P.S. Thank you, for what you did_

Diana could only stand there, frozen. She could only imagine blue eyes staring back at her with intensity and sincerity. It was like she was there with him again, her hand seeming so small being held between both of his. She could remember the warmth of his body, the coolness of his breath, and the strength that he held. She shook her head, trying desperately to remove him from her mind. He was still there, with those piercing blue eyes. Sighing, she leant against her desk.

"Excuse me, Miss Prince," Julia asked, diverting Diana's attention towards her," Is this 'Insufferable Caveman' someone we have to worry about?"

Diana shook her head. "Maybe not you . . . But I, on the other hand."

 **. . . . .**

 **Maragogi, Brazil –**

 _Meanwhile. . ._

His lips curved up in the slightest.

". . . _I, on the other hand."_

She was an anomaly to him. Of course, he saw her from a certain perspective. He knew her face, all of them: the Diplomat, the Princess, and Wonder Woman but that meant nothing if he didn't _know_ her. Her views on the 'Patriarch's World', what she sought in the world, what she enjoyed in life, why did she even want to become a hero. He was curious and he knew that this certain curiosity was dangerous. It concerned him. He looked towards Arthur, who was watching the news and chatting with Mera. She had successfully stolen his beer before he was forced to order another one. Clark sighed, leaning back in his chair, his foot propped up on the chair next to him. They'd been hiding for over ten years, successfully at that. Ever since that one incident they'd gotten better about hiding their tracks, don't leave anything personal behind, only talk to someone if you need to but never tell them any details. That's what kept them alive this whole time, those two little simple rules. Alas, then _she_ arrived. Rao, she made everything all the more complicated. He wasn't going to deny that he had felt connected to her in a way, beyond simple attraction. There was something about her, he pondered. Ever since Lana, he promised never again. He closed his eyes at the memory, trying and succeeding at shaking it from his thoughts. But her, what was it about her that has him in such disarray, such a state that she made him question all the tough decisions that he'd made thus far? She made it seem like he had a choice. He kept telling himself that she was just some naïve princess who didn't know struggle but those thoughts never stuck. Only thing that did seem to stick was the memory of her touch. Ever since the area where her hand had lied burned slightly, the feeling was ingrained in his mind. He was always so conscious of it. Some part of him desperately tried to hang on to that feeling. It was an internal struggle. Would it be better to hold onto it, he asked himself, or to let it go?

"Kal."

His eyes shot towards Arthur who was motioning towards the filled tumbler sitting in front of him. Quickly registering that it was the refill that he had ordered, he nodded towards the bartender as a thanks. The bartender, whose name tag read Luke, nodded back with a smile before continuing with his work.

"How is mother?" Arthur asked. It took Clark a minute to notice that Arthur had called him Kal. It had been so long since he heard that name that he needed a moment to register it's use.

"Uh . . .," He honed in his hearing on their mother. "She's fine, just watching TV. Sounds like she's already eaten as well."

Arthur nodded, not saying anything further.

Mera looked between the two before fully turning towards Clark. He eyed her movement with bored interest.

"So, how long will you two be staying?" She asked, mainly looking at Clark but catching Arthur's gaze.

"Already kicking me out, love?" Arthur asked with a small smile. The Queen shook her head, gathering Arthur by the shark tooth that hung on his neck and bringing him in for a small kiss. Unlike all the other heated kisses, this one seemed genuine. Once they broke apart, Arthur smiled which caused Mera to smile as well. They really did miss each other. Clark was used to his brother but he rarely saw his brother, a King, a married man. He let his eyes linger for a bit longer before turning away, leaving Arthur to answer. "For a bit, why?"

Mera turns slightly, addressing the both of them. "There's an oil rig . . . Not far from the surface of Atlantis. They are hiring. . ."

Clark's eyes shoot towards her, laced with slight irritation.

"Mera," Arthur tried to warn but it sounded more like a plea. His wife shot him a look of determination and he knew she wouldn't budge. It was a sore subject. Yes, it was difficult to get a job without drawing too much attention to himself but he was stubborn. Both Mera and Arthur knew that. Clark had the head of a bull and confidence that he could get his own job. His mother taught him to respect charity but pity was another story.

"And why would the Queen of Atlantis want to help an oil rig company?" Clark smiles bitterly towards her.

"Keep it intact and out of my waters, Kal." She answered simply, grabbing his drink and taking a sip. It wasn't because she was parched. No, it was an act to represent that she wasn't intimidated. Not by him. She knows for a fact that he'd never purposely hurt her and uses it against him.

He looked at her a brief moment, eyes never wavering from her. For some odd reason, he thought, there was something about strong-willed women that weakened him. He breathes in and nods.

On the exhale, he says. "Yes, ma'am."

 **. . . . .**

 _Meanwhile. . ._

Diana sat at her desk, finishing up reports and responding to emails she had received from reporters and government officials, along with some celebrities asking if she'd sponsor them. Without hesitation she'd respond with a diplomatic no and go about to the next email. It was all trivial matters, nothing to delve to deeply in and she was grateful especially with the hectic week coming her way, she didn't know if she could survive.

"Miss Prince," Julia interrupted, addressing her boss through the intercom," You have a visitor."

"Send them in."

Diana quickly sent the last email before closing up the page. Looking down at her watch, she noticed it was almost time to leave. She had an Art Opening to attend in less than an hour and she was going to cut it close to being late. Hopefully, whoever wanted to see her would make it quick.

"I honestly thought you would've been a lot more excited to see me."

She whipped around to see none other than her sister standing in the doorway with a bright smile on her face. Diana couldn't fight the huge smile on her face when she saw her sister, practically bounding in five inch heels to hug her sister.

"By the Gods, Donna, I've missed you," She hugged her tightly, not withholding her strength. Donna gleefully hugged her back with the same amount of strength. Diana took the time to enjoy with splendid moment with her sister. It had been so long since she'd seen her sister, almost half a year. She hadn't seen the sands of Themyscira in that time either. Hera, she missed them, all of her sisters, especially her mother.

"I've missed you as well, sister." Donna pulled back, her arms still wrapped around her sister

"What are you doing here? You weren't supposed to be here until this weekend with mother," Diana pondered, the smile never leaving her face.

"I decided to get a head start before mother begins to hog you for a whole week. I really wanted some time to catch up with my sister."

"Oh, I can't," She sighed, looking utterly disappointed," I must attend an Art Opening and it's in less than an hour . . . Unless, you wish to come with."

Donna smiled brightly, tightening her grip on her sister. "I'd love nothing more."

 **. . . . .**

 _Elsewhere. . ._

"Where are you going?" Arthur asked, watching his brother rise from his seat and fling his jacket over both his shoulders. He threw a few bills on the table, paying not only for his drink but for Arthur's as well. Arthur nodded his thanks.

"I need to see someone." He answered, flipping the collar of his dull worn out pea coat up. It was the middle of November and he estimated that it'd be freezing at his destination. Of course, he wasn't affected by Earth's climate but it helped him blend in, especially in the city.

"And who might that be?" Mera asked with one perfectly shaped brow raised.

"None of your business, Your Majesty." He bowed and began to make his way towards the door. The Atlantian Guardians bowed their heads towards him and he gave them a mock a salute. They couldn't help but a smile in amusement.

"You're an asshole, Kal-El!" Mera shouted from across the bar, making to lean back in her chair with Arthur's arm wrapped around her.

Without turning around, he opened the door after shouting back, "Tell me what you really think."

 **. . . . .**

 _Meanwhile. . ._

The driver stepped out of the limo, smoothing out his tie before making his way to the back of the limousine. He opened the door and held out his hand for Diana to exit, taking note of the exceptionally tall heels she bear on her feet. She took it gratefully, nodding her appreciation as he aided her out of the car. The driver watched in appreciation as she got out, giving him quite the view of the black dress she wear. It was formfitting, shaping every curve and dip of her body perfectly. It ended above her knee, showing off her perfectly toned legs enough for it to be modest. His eyes had traced the cutouts which exposed pieces of her midriff and he had to admire the muscle flexing underneath. He'd never seen a woman so evenly toned. His eyes would've traveled farther if it weren't for the clearing of the throat next to him. He looked to see Miss Troy, Miss Prince's sister, looking at him expectantly with her hand held out. Fumbling over himself, he immediately offered his hand to her which she took not a second later. She gave him a small smile of gratitude and he halfway melted, she wasn't as pretty as her sister but nearly as beautiful.

"We'll be ready to leave around 10:30, Mr. Grey."

"Of course, Miss Prince. 10:30." He nodded, giving both ladies a once over before spinning on his heels and heading towards the limousine. Opening the door, he took his seat on the driver's side and started the engine. He took a moment to look in the rear view mirror, watching their retreating forms as they entered the Art Opening.

"Damn," He sighed before driving off.

 **. . . . .**

 **Gotham City – Wayne Manor**

The BatMobile burst through the waterfall, the wheels screeching when it hit the pavement of the BatCave's driveway. Its speed unmatched sped through the halls, light after light illuminating the path to the BatCave. With the jerk of the handbrake and the flick of one Caped Crusader's wrist, the vehicle spun into a one-eighty and stopped. A gloved hand pressed one of multiple buttons gracing the steering wheel and the platform the BatMobile sat upon, began to descend into the BatCave. The Batman then pressed a button on the steering wheel which linked him to the computer located in the BatCave.

"Computer, pull up any information you can on Selina Kyle and the last known location of Johnathon Crane after he escaped Arkham."

"Yes, sir." The Computer responded, prepping the BatCave for the Batman's arrival. The lights switched on and the bats overhead were startled by the intrusion, some screeching in annoyance at the bright rays of light streamed shown down over their home. The familiar hum of the computer's turning on echoed through the cave. With a small beep the screens ignited to life, showing crime feeds and criminal activity around Gotham. Located on the two main computers was Selina Kyle's file and rumored spotting's of Johnathon Crane outside of Arkham. The platform which the BatMobile sat on was no less than five feet off the ground before the Caped Crusader hopped out, his cape swishing behind him furiously at the movement. Slowly, he approached his computer, hands moving to the cowl before removing it and placing it on a nearby table. He swiped some medical supplies before plopping himself unceremoniously in his chair. Peeling the plastic wrapping around the gauze, he held it to his chin where three cuts lie in his skin. _Selina Kyle._ He practically growled, the infamous CatWoman. It was obvious and she put absolutely no effort into hiding her identity apart from the small lace cloth that surrounded her eyes. His grey steely eyes never deterred from the photo of her on the screen. An enigma at its finest. She had already managed to escape his grasp one too many times and the cells he placed her in couldn't contain her. Unpredictable unlike most of the criminals he faced, smart as well, relies on her wits and strategy. Dangerously adaptable to any situation, always seems to be one step ahead. Tonight though, he had managed to trip her up and if he didn't see the look on her face he wouldn't dare think her surprised. She had looked at him with something in her eyes that he couldn't recognize and he _knew_ it was real, unlike all her other ploys and distraction tactics, that look on her face was far from it. She had felt something, something beginning to pull at his own heart.

 _Selina Kyle._ He hummed, pulling the gauze only to notice the blood on it. If he didn't catch his reflection in the monitor he wouldn't notice the small smile on his face. Grabbing a batarang from his arsenal, the smile immediately fell as he flung it with immense speed at the intruder.

It simply bounced off his shoulder and fell uselessly on the floor.

"You know," Clark bent down and picked up the batarang, narrowing his eyes at it and the assaulter, "I thought we were past this."

The reference towards their past violent encounters was not lost to Bruce and he tilted his head before rising from his chair. He began to approach the Kryptonian and his large arms entangled themselves across his chest. "When were we ever?"

That brought on an amused smile from Clark who shook his head in response. He smoothed two fingers over the batarang, easily bending it back into its previous shape. He then used his heat vision to sharpen and also heat the tip. Bruce watched him as he flung the batarang at one of the bullseye targets across the BatCave. The batarang, which sliced through the air at monumental speeds, went straight through the dummy's head. Clark whistled and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "I've been telling you to let me in that arsenal . . . "

Bruce shook his head immediately, "Not happening, Kent."

Clark shook his head in mock disappointment before using his super speed to set himself in Bruce's chair. The billionaire watched on, eyebrow rose at the intrusion of space. He understood that he and Clark had developed a questionable friendship and that through another perspective they would seem quite close but his BatCave was another story. Fortunately, he chose to let it go and pressed on.

"Where's your brother?"

Clark lent forward and began to toy with one of the smaller computers in front of him, eyes flicking briefly towards the image of a brown haired femme fatale that occupied half the screen of a larger monitor. He decided he'd ask about it later. "At the bottom of the Atlantic, having sex with his wife . . . Dick, Tim?"

"Dick's looking for Jason and Tim, out on patrol," Bruce moved to lean on the edge of a nearby table, his tangled arms never leaving their position over the Batman symbol. He watched as Clark toyed with his keyboard, careful not to press too hard on the keys but also focused on whatever task he was engaged in. "What about your mother? How's she?"

Bruce took note of the way he rolled his neck and flexed his hands. The Batman already knew from past encounters with him that control was not one of his strong suits but to see him fight it, brought a look of appraisal in his eyes. Eyes never leaving the monitor, Clark answered through a tightened jaw, his tongue pushing against the side of his cheek, "She's fine. I found a place for her, not permanent of course but enough for now . . . "

Bruce nodded, fighting back the urge to press for more. Clark continued to type at his slow and controlled pace. A comfortable silence stretches between them, the sound of rushing water and rustling bats occasionally sounding here and there. The Alien continued to type, seemingly directing himself to Google and the Caped Crusader tilted his head in silent curiosity. He watched as Clark typed slowly, one digit finding all the letters to type in the search engine.

"Why'd you call me here?" Clark asked, his deep baritone breaking the deep silence. His eyes flicked between Bruce and the keyboard, attention wavering between the two.

"Other than the fact that you crashed a private press conference . . ? I thought you were lying low."

"Wanted to know what she'd do," He reasoned quickly in response," Whether she'd tell them who I was or not. By the way we first met I would've assumed the former . . . Color me surprised."

Bruce nodded once more, seemingly accepting the answer.

"As for the real reason . . . I found something, something that may concern you."

Clark hummed and Bruce took that as a notion to continue. Removing his large arms from entanglement, he pressed a button near the base of the larger computer.

"Computer, pull up last month's seismograph readings." The machine automatically did as told. With one eye, Clark focused on his task at hand and with the other, he watched the woman's picture minimize and graphs replace the space it took. "Last month, there were five massive earthquakes, the first – Australia, fifty casualties. Second - Hawaii, ninety casualties. Third - Japan, two-hundred and fifty casualties. Fourth – America, Washington, fifty casualties. I thought it was ordinary at first but then the last earthquake . . . It shook the shores of California all the way to the Middle East, hundreds of casualties. Readings show that they all erupted from the Outer Core in Earth's layers. I narrowed down the source and landed in Egypt where the seismic readings were the strongest . . . I found this . . ."

Bruce pulled up a holographic image that sat between both men. He shoots Bruce a quick weary glance before turning towards the hologram. It took Clark's mind a moment to register before recognition crossed his face.

"Kryptonian technology," Clark stated, his jaw beginning to work itself in a way that Bruce recognized as irritation and annoyance. Throughout the course of their friendship Bruce had studied his expressions, those of aggravation and hatred and those of love and care. He noticed that he was very expressive of his anger, only occasionally holding back if in the best interest. Alas, being a Kryptonian he was slightly lost to love, his people being highly technologically advanced turning them blind to that specific emotion, insensitive. And that specifically is why Bruce cared for Martha, Clark's mother; she taught him sympathy and compassion, taught him how to love. If she didn't, only God knows where they'd be now.

Leaning back in Bruce's chair, Clark removed his hands from the keyboard and turned towards the vigilante, giving him his full attention. Bruce nodded towards the holographic Kryptonian technology and continued, "Zod wouldn't kill and hurt that many people just to threaten you like the last time . . . He's serious this time, stronger, and willing to kill. He won't stop until Earth is destroyed and Krypton is reborn."

Growling in aggravation, he shot out of the seat, leaving Bruce to raise an eyebrow at him. If it was any other ordinary man, he'd be startled, frightened even. Bruce made no move of fear, knowing surely that Clark's irritation wasn't directed at him. The Kryptonian rubbed at his temple, one hand shoved in his jacket pocket and the other, moving from his temple only to run through the messy tangles of his hair, successfully pushing back his fringes.

"Do you not remember the last time I tried saving the world?" He asked quietly, a soft edge to his tone that Bruce was fully aware of. Fortunately, one of the perks of being Batman was the fact that intimidation was lost to Bruce.

". . . You didn't _try_ ," He says," You _succeeded_."

Suddenly, Clark is in front of him, hands balled into fist and his eyes blazing with red heat. His towering figure was obviously meant to threaten but Bruce was indifferent, being on the receiving end of his anger before he was insensitive towards it. Of course, he was fully aware that Clark could kick his ass but he knew him better than that. No trifle without reason. Rules that he lived by. Rules that Martha had taught him. Later that night, Bruce Wayne would ask Alfred to deliver some flowers to the home of Martha Kent.

"A _year_ , Bruce," He growled, his eyes blazing red. "They took me for a year."

"I know, Clark. I remember," Bruce continued calmly, with a shrug of his shoulders; his expression was completely placid, decidedly choosing not to get worked up over the ordeal much to Clark's utter annoyance. "I know what happened to you was tragic but that's no reason to hide . . . Especially now."

Bruce, sidestepping the bulk of the angry Kryptonian, turned the monitor that Clark was typing on earlier towards their general direction, the screen casting a light on them in the dimly lit cave.

"Especially after meeting _her_ ," Bruce stated, his voice stern and full of accusation. Clark visibly relaxed, his eyes fading back to the deep blue that Bruce was familiar with and his shoulders sagged as the tension eased out from his body. His hands, which were clutched in the tightest fist Bruce, had ever seen, unclenched and his fingers flexed as to aid the blood flow back into his hands. The heat radiating off the Kryptonian decreased exponentially. All of his anger, his agitation, and animosity depleted into confliction and enthrallment as the image of the Themysciran Ambassador, Diana Prince smiled back at him. She was at an event obviously, people who were not only rich social status but in wealth surrounded her, donning smiles, tuxedos and dresses that he undoubtedly couldn't afford. She was noticeably the star of it all, shining brighter than any diamond dangling from of any of the females ears in the picture whom of which couldn't hold a candle to her. Her hair was done-up, accentuating her sharp jaw and high cheekbones. Following the smooth expanse of her neck and the curve of her shoulder there'd be a red off-shoulder dress that clung to her like a second skin but she made it look so natural. He didn't believe in perfection but ever since he met her, he started questioning his beliefs. In all honesty, he'd met no one like her but of course, he doubted if there was anyone like her. With slow, soundless movements, he made his way towards the chair he had previously occupied, setting it straight before sitting down gently.

"And what would you have me do, Bruce?" He breathed in heavily, his eyes dragging wearily towards the vigilante.

Bruce shrugged. " . . . Nothing."

Clark's brows furrow in perplexity. "Wha-?"

"It's simple, really." He dismisses as if all the answers lie in that hard head of his, as if there is no need to ask questions, only doing so to indulge people and their insistent need to talk about their lives because it's therapeutic. Clark knew him better than that, always finding that he'd be one step ahead of the game, as if it was a game. As if it wasn't life or death but if they were playing Monopoly in the BatCave while Alfred served them some drinks and snacks. Part of Clark disliked him for it but couldn't help but admire it as well. "Contingency plan, Kent. If the Justice League fails to stop him . . . I'm sure you'll find your way."

"Why?" Clark suddenly asks, eyebrows raised and his bottom lip caught between his teeth. "Hm . . .? Why so much faith in me? I don't know how to fight. I know no tactical strategies. Zod is a warrior, trained from birth on how to fight, on how to get the best of his opponent, strategies of war. My family specialized in science."

Bruce shrugged once more. "Cause I know you. And if I have learned anything from any of my experiences with you is that you don't just use your power or skills when you fight, you use your mind, your heart, your will. It's not just flying fist and kicks with you, it's a determination to win . . . It's either that or you're going down fighting."

Clark looked at him once more before turning back to the monitor, his eyes racking over Bruce's face to understand if this was real or not. He was almost startled to find that the sentiment was real.

"I love you too, Brucie."

Rolling his eyes, Bruce finally pulls up a chair, taking a seat next to the bulking and invasive form of Clark. Oddly enough, he finds that he doesn't mind it one bit and for the first time that day, Bruce relaxes. Of course he doesn't remove his suit just in case any inevitable emergencies but takes the time to just breathe. He frowns. It almost seems foreign to him now.

"Tell me about her."

"Wise. Determined. Strong-willed. Arrogant. Kind. Prideful. Almost reminds me of you." Bruce closes his eyes and breathes in heavily through his nose.

Clark pays no mind, continuing to click the arrow on the screen with the mouse. New images arrive with every click. He pauses when he sees a man dressed in a military uniform hanging on her arm with a bright smile and annoyingly cropped hair. "Who's this . . . Steve Trevor? Boyfriend? Husband?"

His brow rises and confirms Clark's suspicion. "Boyfriend."

"How long?"

Bruce scratches his head before running the same hand through his hair. "Two . . . maybe three years."

Clark's thick brows furrowed. "Proposals?"

"Nope. Her first relationship."

He hums low in his throat in response, delving deeper into the sea of images.

"You know . . . She lied not only to her boyfriend but also in front of dozens of reporters and journalist, not to mention the US General. She doesn't even know you yet she decided to lie to the world. She deserves more than a note with a thank you on it. " Bruce open's an eye, looking at him accusingly.

Clark scoffed, his hands leaving the laptop before leaning back in his chair and eyed the vigilante. "Selena Kyle deserves to be in prison yet she conveniently eludes the Batman's grasps every time."

He immediately motioned to the mugshot and if Clark didn't have super-hearing, he would've failed to notice Bruce's heart rate spike. Throwing a quick glance towards the image, he sighed outwardly, running a hand down his face before returning it to its previous position. He was obviously frustrated, not with Clark, but with the obvious enigma that was Selina Kyle. He didn't know what to do with her; some dark part of him liked the games they played, loved how they danced around each other. Alas, his mind screamed at him to cuff her, to hand her to Jim Gordon at the GCPD. She'd land in Arkham eventually, fifteen years at best but with good behavior she could cut that in half. He knew she was fully capable of taking care of herself against normal thugs but the criminals in Arkham were a whole other story. It was an unnatural feeling, something that just kept pulling at his heart. For the first time in his life, he was at a standstill. Quickly remembering his guest, he cleared his throat and set himself straight: making sure his face didn't let anything off, keeping his heart rate under control, and keeping his voice even and strong. Alas, he was sitting next to a man with extraordinary powers he was still learning to understand so, of course, his efforts were in vain.

"Touché," He admitted quietly, his eyes moving lazily from the mug shot to the smirking Kryptonian next to him.

Clark seemingly nodded in response, an amused look on his face before morphing into teasing shock. "Have I bested the Batman at his own game of wit?"

Bruce snorted, "The day you do, Hell will freeze over and pigs will best you in the skies, Kent."

A laugh erupted from his left and Bruce couldn't help but smile himself. The two enjoyed a moment more, talking and trying half-heartedly to best each other in their banter before Clark rose from his seat, shutting the laptop Bruce let him use on the way. Bruce eyes his movements curiously. Slowly, his hands moved to the base of his hood before flipping it up and over his head, the fringe he had smoothed back earlier falling before his eyes once more. He listened beyond the barriers of the BatCave for a moment before nodding to himself. Arthur and Mera were in their chambers in Atlantis, continuously celebrating their reunion. Martha was enjoying herself in less carnal ways, playing a small game of chess with another patient. She was laughing and Clark couldn't help but smile at the sound. Finally, his ears had located the voice he had been searching for and he made way to exit the BatCave.

"Johnathon Crane is at Gotham General, expanding on his latest drug."

Bruce swiveled in his chair, watching his retreating form. "And where, pray tell, are you going?"

"To admire some art."


	3. III

**Thank you:** I wanted to thank all of you who reviewed, followed, favorite-d. I'm very grateful for all of you and it's completely ridiculous the response this story has gotten from just two chapters and I'm completely and utterly grateful. Without you, this would be nothing. All of you, who've reviewed or commented on my story, has made this so much more exciting. You guys inspire me to do more and I want to thank you for it and I want you to know I'm incredibly grateful. Lol, and I don't mean to sound like a wuss but what you've guys have done, taking the time out of your day to read _my_ story means so much to me. I'm going to work my hardest to not disappoint you.

 **Response:** Some of you are worried that this will be a slowburn and want me to end the Steve and Diana relationship almost immediately lol but right now I can't. I'm trying to set the story up and make it almost as realistic as possible considering that Diana actually does care a lot about Steve and won't just toss him to the side. So no, Steve will be here for quite some time I'm afraid and I hope I can make it up to you in the incoming chapters. More WW and SM times coming up soon. I hope I've eased some of your concerns and questions.

 **III**

 _Later the same evening. . ._

 _Nighthawks_

 _By Edward Hopper – 1942_

' _No amount of skillful invention can replace the essential element of imagination'_

Diana read the small transparent plaque at the bottom of the painting which hung just five feet from her in a gloriously golden colored royal frame filled with intricate designs that complimented the painting it held. A little light, right above and below the frame lit the bottom and top of the painting, fading towards the center. Tearing her eyes away from the outer portions that made for the grand presentation, she looked to the painting itself and was immediately enamored. It was the image of a street, with a clear view inside of a dinner, Phillies, where four people sat, three patrons and one waiter. Outside, it was dark, the streets empty and all the surrounding stores closed and void of any light or life. Inside, there was little. A waiter leant on a counter, seemingly chatting with two of the patrons, one a female and the other a male, both of whom seemed close to each other. The two had a cup of coffee sitting next to their elbows. The waiter, frozen in place, looked to be reaching down under the counter, for something she knew not but was curious nonetheless. There was another man, she couldn't see his face, with his back towards her and Diana's mind wandered. Why were they out so late at night where they seemed to be the only life? What were the waiter and the other two patrons talking about? Was the lone man in on the conversation or was he just enjoying a late night cup of coffee? Her eyes ran over the painting once more, catching every detail her sharp eyes could. _Fascination_ , one word that could describe how she was feeling in that moment of captivation. Some part of her so badly wanted to delve inside the painting, perhaps join the conversation or begin one with the lone man she couldn't identify. She imagined herself walking through the doors and taking a seat on one of the many stools surrounding the counter. Crossing her legs, she'd order a cup of coffee and cast sure glances towards the few other patrons and the handsome waiter. She would then let her eyes go to the outside, where she imagined the darkness, the bare roads, the empty stores. She imagined herself running through it, discarding her heels, letting her hair down and just savoring the silence.

"Sister."

Diana whipped her head around, snapping out of her mind only to find Donna's probing blue eyes.

"You've been staring at this painting for quite a while." Donna spoke with amusement laced behind her voice and a smile fighting against her pink lips. "Now either you're trying to play coy with that guy that's been staring at you for the past ten minutes and give him an amazing view of your ass or… This painting has really captured your undivided attention."

She stared at her sister for a moment, her eyes never leaving the ones adjacent and her lips parted, nonplussed. "Wait, what?"

Donna laughed lightly before motioning towards the other side of the room with abandonment, her chin jutted out in a directional manner. Diana's eyes followed the movement, looking across the room to indeed see a man staring at her. His eyes had traveled up the expanse of her body before meeting hers unabashedly. He smirked but didn't turn away. She turned towards Donna who waved flirtatiously at him and rolled her eyes.

"Donna." She warned, her brows rising expectantly.

"What?" Her sister asked innocently. "He's clearly into you."

"Unfortunately for the _both_ of you I'm taken, or have you forgotten already?" Diana asked, eyes flicking between the man and Donna. He was by no means looking towards her but his gaze flicked towards her sister every now and then, clearly far more interested in a chase rather than something being handed to him. Rolling her eyes, she turned back towards the main objective of this celebration.

"Oh, yes, the famous Colonel Trevor. No, I haven't forgotten… Just rather not interested." She said, feigning boredom causing Diana to shake her head in disagreement. "Come on, Diana, I mean he was fascinating when we first found him and I must thank him one day for introducing me to the land of man but that fame died some time ago when men like that," She motioned towards the man, whom of which was still watching them much to Diana's dismay," Started staring at you. By the Gods, Diana, I don't know how you do it."

Diana pursed her lips, slightly amused by the whole situation but didn't let it show on her face. "By all means, Donna, go ahead..."

Donna finally turned away from her eye-sex and focused on her sister, grabbing her hand and squeezing. Diana squeezed back and fought the rise of a smile. "No... I couldn't, I mean, I'm spending time with you, my dear sister."

"No, Donna, I can tell you are enjoying the company more than the art," She smiled wryly at her sister and shot a glance at the man on the other side of the room before nodding in his general direction. "Go have some fun."

Donna tilted her head, a torn look on her face as she worried her bottom lip with her two front teeth. "Really?"

Diana nodded reassuringly, turning back towards the painting with dying interest and heard the shuffle of Donna's feet as she began to make her way. Without bothering to turn around, she says, "Besides... It would be a fantastic story to tell mother."

"You wouldn't dare." She could feel the burning of Donna's gaze on the back of her head before turning to look at her, throwing her a small, dangerous smile.

 **. . . . .**

 _Later that night. . ._

She gets around more after that, traversing between paintings after painting but to her utter surprise, she never gets bored of it. She sees something in them, another world perhaps, she wonders. Not knowing, she continues. A few people come up to her, talk for a bit, trying their all to gain her attention but soon learning they can't before going on. Later on she realizes, she's lost in them. _Mona Lisa_ by Da Vinci, _Starry Night_ and _Café Terrace At Night_ by Van Gogh, _The Persistence of Memory_ by Dali, all of which capture not only her eyes but her mind, her thoughts, curiosity, and the most vivid imagination. Her fingers twitch occasionally and she fights the urge to trace the strokes, content with letting her eyes do all the work. _The Old Guitarist_ by Pablo Picasso, she reads and her eyes travel to the next line. _Everything you can imagine is real,_ it says.

'Beautiful, isn't?'

It's a whisper in the wind and it takes her a minute to realize that this voice is not in her head. Turning around, she's surprised to find no one and her spine instinctively straightens from its relaxed posture. She begins to look around, noticing that the place is far more occupied than previously but no one is paying her any mind, not even looking her way, too caught up in the art or having a conversation. Of course, there is the occasional male who throws a glance her way but besides that, nothing out of the ordinary. She turns back around; her brows now have a crease in between them. Steeling her nerves she thinks nothing of it, content with continuing her night as she has been doing but her lasso disagrees and ignites a blaze of heat on her thigh. She shakes her head and moves onto the next painting and finds that there is already someone there. A man, obviously. She scoffs but makes her way nonetheless and stands a good distance away, about two or three feet, enough to where she could actually enjoy the painting. She looks down at the plaque and it reads:

 _The Lovers_

 _Rene' Magritte – 1928_

' _The mind loves the unknown. It loves images whose meaning is unknown, since the meaning of the mind itself is unknown'_

"You know him?"

Diana turns to her left, eyebrows raised and her eyes find a man. He's tall, unsurprisingly not taller than her, especially in the heels she's wearing. His hair is long and pulled back into a small pony tail that compliments his facial features, a sharp, clean shaven jaw, and high cheekbones. His skin is kissed by the Arabian sun and his eyes, a surprising shade of hazel watches her patiently. He's wearing an expensive suit, Armani, Gucci, she doesn't care enough to guess which one but it clutches him in the right places, expressing quite an impressive physique. After giving him another once over, she meets his eyes and takes a moment before nodding. "Yes, I'm quite familiar with his work but this is the only piece I've seen in person. I couldn't give you a professional take on it I'm afraid."

"No worries, I actually know him quite well. Studied him while I was on a tour in Belgium," He responds and now that he has spoken for a second time, she can hear the foreign dialect. Yes, she nods internally, most definitely Greek. "He used to say 'Everything we see hides another thing . . ."

'We always want to see what is hidden by what we see'.' A voice finishes in her ears and the crease between Diana's brows returns. Doing a quick take of the room, she notices once more to utter disappointment that there is nothing out of the ordinary. A trick of the mind, perhaps? Her thigh burns at the thought and she winces. Cursing the lasso, she turns back towards her companion and notices his worried gaze on her. He takes a hesitant step towards her and holds his hand out in case she needs it but she just shakes her head.

"Are you alright?" He voices and does a once over, taking in her appearance to root the problem. Noticing that nothing's wrong with her, he turns towards the room but finds nothing. His gaze slowly returns to her.

"No, no, I'm quite alright, I just . . .," She looks around the room once more, straining her ears to find the root of her problems but comes out with nothing. She sighs. "It's nothing. I just thought I heard someone I know."

Worming her way around the lasso with partial truths was getting a tad bit difficult with his probing questions.

"Ah," He nods and motions outwards with his hand. "Would you like to go look for him or her?"

She shakes her head and smiles reassuringly. "No, it's fine. Thank you. You're very kind Mr. . . ?"

He smiles in kind and holds out his hand towards her. "Stratios Theos. And you, Miss?"

"Diana Prince," She says and immediately takes the out stretched, shaking it firmly, mind her inhuman strength. The slightest sign of pain and she's immediately pulling back, scratching the back of her head to void the interaction. Ignorance will get you nowhere, she tells herself and her hand returns to its resting position on her clutch. She avoids the way he shakes his hand, as if to get the feeling back in it, before placing it in his pocket. He softly laughs it off before meeting her eyes once more.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Miss Prince. I've heard a lot about you and your work," He says with a polite smile.

'He's so full of shit.'

She smiles tightly towards Stratios and does a quick take of the room. Same as before. There's nothing. Her gaze finds her companion's eyes once more before tilting her head and tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She strained her hearing for any indication of the voice once more. Heartbeats filled her ears, along with the common chatter surrounding her. It was fruitless, so many people, so many sounds. How would she narrow down whoever was toying with her? Her hearing reached extended spaces beyond her, how was she sure this was voice was even in the building or even in the state? All she knew was that the voice was male and fairly familiar with her. Immediately she began to rack her mind as to where she had heard the voice before. 'Figure it out, yet?' His tone was mocking and playful, obviously enjoying his own little game. Silently she seethed and her memory worked harder to match voices.

And then it all clicked.

That _bastard_.

'To be quite honest with you, princess, I imagined you as a sculpture type fan. Paintings…' He breathed out heavily. 'Who would've thought?'

Stratios eyed her carefully, taking in her cautious nature. Her attention was vividly elsewhere and she looked lost in her own mind much to his utter disappointment. What was he to do in a situation like this? How else would he gain her interest and attention? Running a hand through his hair, he took a small, quick breath before returning towards the painting.

"You seem really distraught tonight, Miss Prince. Guarded. Care to share to what troubles you?" His voice was careful and his words were chosen carefully. Startled, she turned towards him once more, almost forgetting his presence altogether.

"No." She smiles reassuringly. "I'm fine. Thank you for your concern but I think I've over analyzed this painting for far too long so if you'll excuse me …"

"Bu-," He watched her walk away, specifically the sway of her hips and the length of her legs in the heels she was wearing. Alas, he heard the whispers. Someone was using her powers against her? Someone she knew, by the way she wasn't freaking out. He had her, whoever it was. He could hear the rapid succession of her heart beat when this man spoke, the flush of her cheeks. The anger began to replace whatever he had felt before and immediately made his way towards the exit, fist burning holes in his suit pocket.

 **. . . . .**

 _Minutes later . . ._

"What do you want?" She said to seemingly to no one but she knew; she knew he could hear her. Figuring out who it was practically answered all of her questions. He wasn't even in the building and he made her want to curse the gods for rattling her in such a way. Damn him, she seethed, he was so intolerable. Her already growing anger had torn the clutch she had brought with her, leaving her to carry her phone, her credit card, and her JLA Teleporter much to her utter dismay. So here she was, standing calmly in front of a painting not even bothering to read the plaque underneath and just eyeing it's multiple and in depth qualities.

'Why …' He inhaled sharply. 'Why do you assume that I want something from you?'

"Last time we spoke, we decimated half the forestry in a seventy-five mile wide farm. To be quite honest, I didn't think I'd be seeing you any time soon." She answered calmly on the contrary to the anger storming on the inside.

'Hmm …' He hummed. 'If I do remember correctly, you _were_ trespassing on _my_ property, Miss Prince.'

She scoffed. "Forgive me if I was doing my job."

'Was that all it was? A job?' He asks and she tilts her head. He sighs. 'I mean that's what it was at first but after…'

"What more could it have been, ?" She says quickly, interrupting whatever thoughts he was attempting to put in her head.

'You wound me, princess.'

"What do you want, Clark?"

'Come find me and maybe… I'll tell you.' It's a whisper in her ear and at that she can feel their connection cut. He's no longer listening to her and she suddenly feels lonely, empty. Looking around, she notices a significant chunk of people have left and only a sparse amount remaining, her sister among the mass. The lights have dimmed significantly and she checks the time. _10:00._ Thirty minutes and her ride would be here, she could easily just leave and forget all about Clark Kent, probably call Steve and talk to him all night before she went to bed. Her thigh burned in disagreement of her thoughts and she winced. There was obviously a lie in there somewhere but she had a fleeting feeling it had something to do with the whole forgetting about Clark Kent thing. Much to her utter confusion, he'd been on her mind a lot recently, haunting her. She swore she'd seen him throughout the day, in her office, during a press conference, walking down the street but it never was. Why? She had wondered so restlessly. What was so special about him that she couldn't go an hour without imagining him? She sighed. What to do? Something inside her was begging her to take a chance, to throw caution and propriety out the window before falling herself. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, silently praying to Hera on what to do. _Let him catch you_. Immediately, her eyes snapped and she was once again face to face with the painting she had been unconsciously staring at earlier.

 _Alexander Grayson_

 _Year Unknown_

' _Sometimes the people and places we are meant for, take us by surprise.'_

Instead of a painting, this artwork was a drawing. Fairly good, she thought, better than some of the things she's seen. It was late night, outside of a café. There, two people sat, a man and woman, a small cup of tea in front of the woman and coffee for the man. The man was sitting on the opposite side of his partner, one hand holding her own and the other holding a newspaper in front of his face. His sole focus seemed entirely on that newspaper. His leg, which was crossed over the other held up the bent edge of the paper, supporting it. He looked like your typical, everyday man, nice suit, a silver watch on his wrist, some shiny shoes, and a black tie. The woman, who sat on the other side of him, watched him, something akin to pain behind her eyes. She's watching him but he, he's not watching her. Her hand is clutching him like a lifeline yet it isn't the same when you're not receiving the same treatment, the same commitment and attention. All the while, he's oblivious to her pain. Oddly, there's another man sitting behind her, leant over a cup of tea with a least expensive suit on but his hand, Diana notices, his hand is behind him, holding the woman's. No, it's not infidelity. It's something so much more than that. He can see her. Without using his eyes, he notices her and acknowledges her, not by her looks or beauty. He isn't there to have a cup of tea and enjoy the evening. He was there for her.

 **. . . . .**

She listens quietly as she steps into the rear of the building, making sure no one notices her as she does so. He was here, inside, she knew. Before he disconnected their link she heard the sound of a door being forcefully opened and the sound of boots smacking stone floors. She focuses on his scent at first, narrowing the area as to where he is, the familiar smell of hay, earthy, something particularly alien, and a subtle hint of cologne to tie it all together. It's narrowed down to a storage room in the back of the Art Gallery's building. It's empty except for multitudes of boxes surrounding her, statues, she assumes, or more art. There's so many, towering over her, hiding her view of what's surrounding her. She now knows why he chose this room. The lanes were narrow, two sets of lights on either side of the enormous room making everything seem dark but not dark enough eliciting shadows in every corner, shadows she swore that moved. Nevertheless, she continued her pace, hearing the occasional noise here and there but never _him._ Nothing but boxes. _Multitudes_. She can't find him alone; she needs to use her powers much to her impression. No use in her vision, only thing she'd get from that would be the age of the tree the boxes originated. Immediately, she moves to her hearing on the smallest of sounds, she hears the lightest of footsteps and calm breathing. Even as she moves to reach the sounds as they get louder, she hears them fade before laughter erupts and she almost jumps at its unexpectedness. It takes her a moment to realize that he's laughing _at her_.

'You know, you being Wonder Woman and all,' She can imagine him with a hand in his pocket and the other waving about dramatically at his quips, 'I would've thought you would be better at this.'

She can feel a growl tickling at her throat and her jaw sets. He not only laughs at her but taunts her as well. _Splendid_ , she thinks. Gaea, why did she choose to indulge him? "I've obviously never encountered someone of your caliber, Clark."

He's quick with his response. 'There is _no one_ of my caliber, princess.'

"Oh, do tell," She says, sarcastically, peeking over a corner of boxes and watches a shadow walk away. Her nostrils flood with his scent and she fights the smirk tugging at her lips. The stride she has kept so far increases.

'All in good time.' He mockingly reassures her.

Turning another corner, she halts. It takes her a good moment to let out the breath she's been holding and deflates immediately. There, sitting on one of the boxes was what she assumed to be his jacket, folded neatly and obviously made to be on display for her.

'It won't be that easy, princess.'

She doesn't respond, just walks slowly towards the item. It's a dark denim jacket, large for her petite size, but perfect for Clark Kent's build. Theirs a light grey hood on it and she strokes the cloth material on it. The buttons which are a bright silver reflect in the small amount of light, even if she didn't smell it, it would've served a dual purpose if she had looked towards the ceiling for any indication of movement or reflective surfaces. The warrior in her agreed with him - she was underestimating him and he was doing well in showing her. Anger was slowly creeping in but as did admiration. He was obviously proving more than just some ordinary farm boy with superpowers.

She hums before smiling wickedly. "Fine, Clark Kent. I'm game."

'About time, Diana.' He makes a sound, something akin to satisfaction, low in his throat. She can feel it, the tremor of his throat inside her, tickling the caverns surrounding her heart and she almost trembles.

 _All_ the lights go out this time, one by one.

Her eyes flick around her, making sure he didn't have eyes on her before turning around back towards the piece of clothing. She places her items on the box next to her and removes her heels, instantaneously leaving her a few inches shorter. Pulling the clips from her hair, she tosses them on the box as well before shaking her head, making sure it all comes down. Next, she picks up his jacket and places both her arms inside and is immediately hit with his aroma. It now surrounds her, filling her nostrils to the max. She takes an odd comfort in it, the smell of pine and hay, along with his natural alien scent. It's very homey, she notices, and remarkably comfortable. Flipping the hood of the jacket up, she gets another whiff of his scent which is becoming increasingly familiar with her. She begins to place her items in the multiple pockets, inside and out of his jacket, already beginning to make the large item her own. Of course, she'd give it back. The thing was incredibly large on her frame, the shoulders were slouching a quarter down her arm, not to mention the size of the sleeves which she had no doubt she could fit her head in if she wanted to. The cuffs of the jacket reached past her fingertips much to her dismay and cringed when the tip of the hood fell over her eyes. Nonetheless, she had no doubt that this action would get the job done. Quickly, she picked up her heels and slowly, her bare feet lifted off the floor.

That's when she heard him inhale sharply through his nose along with his familiar predatory growl.

Ha, she smiled.

Checkmate.

'Think you're so good, huh? You must've forgotten about the lights. Last time I checked, you don't possess the ability to see in the dark, princess.'

"You may be right about that but what about you? Hmm? Or is that also one of your many talents?" She responds, shoveling through the jacket pocket to find her phone. One quick glance at the screen and she has two missed calls and three text messages.

 _One missed call from Donna Troy… 10:35_

 _Hey, D, turns out he had a wife. *_ _insert sad face_ _ *****_ _Honestly disappointed. Anyway, I'll meet you back at your place since it's past 10:30. Tried calling you. Didn't work. Hera, anyway, hope you're there and waiting on me with a pint of rocky road ice cream and a movie with Marlon Brando or Heath Ledger. Whichever the two. Love you._

 _Donna… 10:40_

 _One missed call from Steve Trevor._

 _Hey, angel, sorry I couldn't make it to the gallery with you tonight. It was hectic at the base, honestly. But hell, I missed you. Hopefully, I can make it up to you at the gala in a couple of days, or sooner… I don't know. Whatever's good with you. I'll be free for a couple of days before I have to fly back out to Arizona. Anyway, I'll talk to you later._

 _Steve… 10:39_

 _Ok, angel, you're kind of worrying me, here. Are you on a mission or something? Sorry, if I'm sounding like an overprotective and clingy boyfriend but still… Can I get something?_

 _Steve… 10:59_

Dammit, she sighs.

'Is something wrong?' She gets an immediate response and can tell that he's testing the waters, whether she wants to continue their little game. She finds that the slightest bit comforting, that he knows the difference between reality and whatever alternate universe where there was no existing world around them. He sounds disappointed but also the slightest bit concerned. She takes the oddest amount of comfort in that, as well. Hearing his sure footsteps for the first time that night, she looks up, using the light from her phone to reflect before her only to see him peeking around the corner of a box, both eyebrows raised in question and worry. His fringe falls in front of his white bright eyes which she assumes that he uses for night vision and soon Diana realizes that he looks like an overgrown child coming from a game of super powered hide and seek questioning whether or not it's time to go home. She smiles, in amusement and bites her lip, not wanting to be questioned about it. He tilts his head and his white irises travel from her eyes to her lips.

She tries to recognize the action as something else but her lasso burns in knowing.

"So that's how you did it, eh?" He moves towards her, slowly, almost cautious like. He reminds her of a lion, his movements are slow but sure and strong. She watches and waits, curious as to what he's talking about until he's a foot away from her and plucks the edge of his jacket, his thumb gliding over one of the silver buttons. He nods appraisingly, his eyes running from the edge of denim to the hood, almost smiling amusedly at how small she looks. "Smart…"

She doesn't respond, just looks up at him from the hood on her head. He tilts his head once more and she watches the fringe fall to the right. His hand is hesitant at first as it rises from his pocket, flexing briefly, curling into a fist, before opening once more and pushing back the hood over her head. She watches him as he does so, watches the way his slightly dilated eyes follow his own movements, admiring the way the light catches his features, illuminating his sharp jaw and edged cheek bones. This simple motion shouldn't mean this much, shouldn't be this intimate. It's ridiculous, she thinks, the way she reacts to a simple notion of aid. She can't find the words to tell him to stop, nor can she find her two feet to move away. In all honesty, he's entranced her, fascinated her beyond anything she's ever known. The feeling isn't unfamiliar with her. She had the same sensation when she first met Steve. This feeling he elicits from her now isn't all too new. It isn't the fact that he's a man that elicits the feeling though, it's the close proximity, the heat she feels when he's near. She wonders if it's a telltale signs from the gods or something else entirely, something she hasn't yet familiarized herself with or come into contact with.

Of course, he uses his proximity to peer over the angle of her phone, reading the messages upside down and she tries not to sway at their closeness, tries not to inhale too much of his scent or revel in the warmth of his nearness. It's intoxicating and completely overwhelming. Does he affect everyone like this, she wonders. What is it about him that has her feeling this way, that has her mind in such a conflict? Some small part of her mind is screaming a name, Steve's name and that almost snaps her out of her reverie. _Steve_. Right.

"…You should call them back." He says, looking up from her phone and into her own eyes. She's almost startled by the intensity of it. The white fades and with it the heat of his eyes, leaving the blue of his irises to be illuminated by the dying screen of her phone. It's beautiful and she fights the urge to trace the dimming white veins under his eyes. She watches for a moment as the white heat leaves them, receding back into wherever it came from. Yet, when her eyes look back into his, she can still see small specks of red in his sclera, surrounding the sea of cerulean. She can feel his cool breath on her lips, something minty and fresh. His fringe tickles her forehead and she fights herself, fights the twitch of her hand that wishes to push aside the annoyance. He sees it. She knows he sees it, she knows that he finds some sort of odd fascination of her every move. It's not instinct. No, it's something far more primal.

"Guess our little game is over, then?" She finds herself asking, trying to break whatever trance he has her locked in. _Steve,_ she reminds herself. Tilting her head up in the slightest she watches as his intense eyes gain a bit of mirth to them.

"For now, yes…" He mutters lowly with an all too knowing smirk. He intends to move backwards, swiftly turning on his heel, but before he could go far, her hand grazes his and he breathes in sharply, bringing his hand back towards him like she wields some sort of magical fire hot enough to burn his tough skin. She watches him curiously, concerned if she actually hurt him but recalls the moment in the barn. _Something with her hands_ , she remembers. His noes flares and his jaw flexes repeatedly, he flexes his hands before shoving them into his pockets. Without turning back towards her, he continues on his way. "Call them… You're with me tonight, princess."

"What-?"

He's gone and her phone begins to vibrate in her hand.

 _Steve Trevor._

"Hera, help me."

 **. . . . .**

' _Hello?'_

' _Hey, where have you been? Called you, texted you.'_

' _Yeah, I know.' She sighs. 'I've been a bit preoccupied. Sorry.'_

' _No, no, it's fine. I just… I've been wanting to talk to you, lately… About something that I believe is important, and you just had me worried for a sec. I can't talk in full detail right now but I just think, you know… It's time we move farther in are relationship…'_

 _Her heart skips one too many beats._ He winces at the pain that courses through his.

' _What do you-?'_

 _He breathes before continuing. 'No, not right now… I just want you to know. Think about it, probably…? I don't know. Shit… Sorry, but I've been trying to gather the courage to tell you that for weeks and now that I do… Look, I love you, Angel, and I want to take this farther. Whatever we have, farther. I'm sorry if this is stressing you out or giving you a lot to think about, but think about it on your own time, alright? When you want to, of course…'_

His lungs refuse to take in oxygen.

 _She doesn't answer immediately. Breathing in, sighing, and tries to breathe rationally. 'I don't know what to say, Steve…'_

' _Shh, don't say anything. I don't- I don't want to do this over the phone, alright? Just promise me, you'll think about it, hmm? Promise me.'_

 _This time she does answer immediately. 'I promise.'_

' _Good…' He breathes in before choking out a laugh. 'I'm sorry but… It's so good to finally get that off my chest.'_

' _Yes…' She smiles slightly. 'Of course.'_

He winces. Every word is laced with kryptonite.

' _Whew, alright, well… I'll see you in a couple days, right? Hopefully. I know your mother is coming but whatever time is good for you.' He's practically pleading._

' _Yes, Steve. Until next week.' She attempts to hang up._

 _He quickly gets in a response before she does do. 'I love you.'_

 _She pauses. It takes a moment before she gives a response. It almost comes out raggedy, as if she's attempting to choke back tears. 'I-.'_

' _I know… You don't have to try and say it for my sake… I just wanted you to know. Anyway… Goodnight, Angel.'_

' _Goodnight, Steve.'_

He collapses on the side of the brick wall, hands sliding along to catch him as he falls to the ground. His head fell hard against the wall and he looked up at the sky with weary, tired eyes.

"Why her?"

 **. . . . .**

He finds her a few minutes later, after her very humorous conversation with one Donna Troy, head hung low and feet dangling off a box, heels right next to her. His jacket hangs loosely on one shoulder while it's fallen off the other. It has practically engulfed her. He finds it odd how she can pull off a black chiffon dress with a jean hoodie but doesn't dwell on it. All he can see is the look on her face, half empty, half full kind of deal. She almost looks lost, torn, and it honestly tears at the scattered pieces of his heart. He can't decide what to do. What does one usually do with a superhero with boyfriend issues; he questions and approaches her slowly. While doing so, he decides on how to proceed. He assumes she wouldn't take kindly to a comment on wit or one of a critical eye. Maybe some subtle teasing would do, life her spirits? His brow raises and he's a few steps away from her. She still refuses to look up at him. He admires the way her hair falls in front of her face, the way the light catches on her features and magnifies its structures. It's absolutely alluring and by the time he stops in front of her he hasn't thought of anything to say. Well, he sighs, fight or flight. His hand moves on its own accord and stops below her neck, hesitating before moving to her chin where he lifts it slightly.

"Hmm," He hums and she looks up at him beneath her lashes. "I need you to cheer up…"

She scoffs and looks down at her fumbling hands. He watches as she tangles her fingers, playing with them, moving them in different angles. "Gaea, is that the best you can do, Clark?"

"Uh, yes…" He says almost awkwardly but tries nonetheless to catch her gaze. "I… have something for you and I need you to be… _happy_ in order for me to give it to you."

She looks up at him once more with a raised brow, searching his gaze for anything. "Fine… But I hope it's not shoving me against a tree again. Surprisingly, someone who lacks fighting skill such as yourself… You hurt."

He nods, smiles wryly before saying sarcastically, "Well, you weren't so bad yourself, princess… And no, fortunately for you, it's not that."

" _Fortunately_ , for me?" She asks incredulously, pointing a perfectly manicured finger at herself. "If I do remember correctly, you surrendered to me."

"Hmm… I don't recall." He says, twisting on the souls of feet and making his way towards the exit, hiding his successful smile from her. His plan all along. "But I do recall one thing… You, underneath me, pinned down and defeated… Ring a bell?"

She's glad it's too dark for him to see the blush rise on her cheeks. "You were lucky."

"Luck had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that you lost and I won, princess."

He laughed lightly when he felt the heel of her shoe hit him in the back.

 **. . . . .**

 _ **Meanwhile…**_

Theós Stratios walked briskly through the bar, anger emanating off his very form. There was no limit to the fury he was feeling now, it coursed through his veins like his very own blood and his muscles shook with it. Rage wasn't unfamiliar with him, a keen reminder of his strained family relations. Growling, he flipped over the nearest table and watched as it flew across the room, through the window, and smashing to numerous pieces outside. Two chairs followed its path but it wasn't enough to diminish his anger. The bar's patrons looked on cautiously with expanding fear. Practically roaring in frustration at the fragile state of his current location he continued towards the bar. Mundane alcohol barely affected his need for intoxication, only providing him with a lack of burn. He began to curse the gods and everything they are when a tall, muscular male stood before him, arms crossed and eyes filled with determination and agitation. Theós easily shoved the man to the side, successfully knocking the brute across the room. On that note, another man rose in disagreement of the action but he paid the agitated patron no mind, angrily ripping off the red tie wrapped around his neck before muttering something about puny mundane clothing and shoving past said man. The man made the mistake of placing his hand on Theós shoulder and watched on horrifically as his hand began to morph into black ash, his pale skin turning thousands of shades darker and his veins filling with fire. His eyes grew red with foreign anger and his body shook with a new found strength. Frantically looking around, he found his earlier friend, still reeling from being tossed across the room and pounced on him, his hands immediately going towards his throat before assaulting it. Theós didn't bother to watch as he always sought to do every time that happened. At the time, surprisingly, he found it boring. He was too busily consumed with another need, sexual and primal and needy and growing desperately. Taking a seat at the bar, he tried desperately to put the feelings at the back of his head but failed miserably. He tried listening to the sounds of chaos erupting around him, listening to the bar's patrons begin to fight mercilessly, battering each other like monsters. It worked to no avail and he swore.

The bartender sat before him, breathing heavily with the foreign anger and his hands increasingly gray with ash. He was currently bashing his employee's head into the counter top of the bar and the blood splattered on Theós shirt. He looked down at the offending stain and cringed. "Fuck's sake."

He grabbed the bartender by the collar of his shirt and with all his power brought his head to the edge of the counter, head snapping clean off his neck. Both men fell to floor ungracefully with a thud. If he wasn't in such a mood he'd laugh.

"Well, isn't this unpleasant."

Theós' lips curled up in a snarl and emitted a more powerful aura, enraging everyone around him far more effectively. They grew more brutal in their brawling and blood began to fly.

"I'm sorry but that little party trick won't work on me. Fortunately, I'm far from the likes of them and besides . . . I've learned to hone my anger. It fails miserably in battle, or war." While saying this, the voice's foot kicked a dead body to the side and out of his way.

"And what would you know of _war_?" Theós snarled.

"None more than you, I'm sure."

Whirling on him, Theós grabbed the man by the throat, hauling him into the air effortlessly and began to unconsciously unleash his contained rage. The man didn't struggle against Theós' rage, only smiling in admiration towards him. "But I do know many languages, none oblivious to me. So it wasn't hard to identify 'Theós Stratios'. It almost took me a moment to realize who you were before it all came together. Theós in Greek means god and the last part, I found most interesting. _Stratios_ – 'Warlike'. Imagine my surprise when I found the God of War living on Earth . . . Of all places."

He clicked his tongue, amusement and glee evident on his face as he watched this, Theós morph into a grey shaded being. His mundane clothes burned off, evaporating in a cloud of ash and his bare chest glistened in the dim light of the bar. Replacing the watch on his forearms were black bracers with intricate designs carved into them. His trousers were replaced by a Grecian skirt and the hair on his head diminished as a Spartan helmet appeared in its place. In the dark shadows of the helmet, hazel eyes morphed red.

"Why do you come here, _Kryptonian_?" Ares spat, now in his natural form, towering over Zod with a menacing glare.

"I find myself needing you and I shall say . . . What I have planned may work in your favor." The grip on his throat tightened and Zod, with a quick twist of his wrist was on his feet once more. Ares stumbled backwards, taken aback by the abrupt move. His eyes grew redder with his growing temper. He moved to grab Zod once more but paused when Zod said, "You can have her."

He was almost frozen in place.

"Your desire," Zod spoke, a hand traveling up towards his throat and rubbed to soothe the throbbing pain there. "The Princess, the Champion . . . You can have her, take her all you want. I know the possession of her heart."

"You know who holds her heart?" Ares stood at attention, all anger immediately gone and curiosity taking its place. Zod nodded. "And you seek to destroy him?"

"No." Zod said simply, shaking his head. Ares growled in disagreement. "I seek to destroy this planet, replace it with my own . . . I assume you are familiar with it."

"I've heard of its name."

"All I care for is resurrecting my home. After that - you can have her - and the name of her current lover. All I ask of you is to join me in defeating those who wish to stop me." Zod continues, moving towards the bar, stepping over multitudes of bodies while doing so. He takes a stool and pulls it out before setting himself down. He watches with satisfied eyes as the God of War takes the seat beside him. At the close proximity Zod can feel the God's powers intensify, his aura of hate and sadistic feelings surrounding him, hitting his head hard but not successfully controlling him. The Kryptonian sighs when he can feel the influence wane. A moment of silence passes before them, the air heavy with the scent of blood, alcohol, and death. Bodies lie everywhere, either dead or nearing it.

It doesn't take long before Zod breaks it.

"My god, Rao, is gone." He whispers something in Kryptonian, translated it allows the god to rest in peace. "My planet will be in need of another once it returns to its former glory. You, God of War, can guide them, my people, along with the Princess. They would worship you, protect your name and defend it. I know of your ever growing hate for the gods. You help them and they'll work to destroy whichever god you choose. Would that persuade you to help me in my conquest?"

Ares stood abruptly, his stool flying and his powerful aura intensifying. His large arms flexed and looked at Zod with his red beady eyes. Zod was almost knocked back with the force his power was emitting. He watched a sword materialize in the god's hand before he smiled sadistically.

"What shall we do first, Zod of Krypton?"

 **. . . . .**

 **Apologies** : Had to cut this one in half because I was running out of time. Um, what else… Oh, yeah, I'm sorry for the long wait. Been really busy lately. Just posting this to satisfy you all, while I continue to work on the full chapter I intended to post before Sunday which will serve as the next chapter. In all honesty guys, lol, I don't see this ending any time soon. This might be the longest running story I've ever posted, just knowing what I have in store for this story. So, all in all, sorry for the long wait and the next chapter will be up sooner than this one. Thank you for your patience.

 **Please review, comment, PM, whatever floats your boat. You wanna talk about the story? Sure, I'm up, if you have any questions, or if you have an idea you'd like to share with little old me? I'm down with that too.**

 **Anyway, I gotta work on the rest of this original chapter, so, talk to you next chapter.**

 **:P**

 **PS, Thank all of you, again, for being here with me. It honestly, really means a lot to me.**


	4. IV

**IV**

 **. . . . .**

"Are you finally going to tell me what we're doing, Clark?" Diana asks once they're a good amount of feet away from rear entrance of the Gallery. Their walking side by side, her shoulders occasionally bumping his. She has her hands shoved into his jacket pocket, clutching it over her as if she was cold. Which she wasn't, her Amazonian body allowing her to withstand temperature far more than an ordinary human but still, she can't refuse that his jacket is ridiculously comfortable on the inside. It doesn't matter to him, she can see. Doesn't even spare a glance at it. He's just walking next to her, head down, and hands shoved in his pocket. He's fairly quiet but Diana doesn't object to it. She's honestly beginning to enjoy the city's nightlife. No matter the darkness, it was bright. Few people were walking up and down the street, some holding hands or drunkenly stumbling towards their next destination. Most were hanging inside bars or coffee shops, giving Diana a great excuse to leave her hood down. Paparazzi wasn't a big deal with her but she was still conscious of it, and she knew Clark wouldn't like it seeing as he had come all this way to London from Smallville, Kansas just to-

She sighed, realizing she was still awaiting her answer and angled her head in his general direction.

"Why, hmm? Don't enjoy my company?" He asks, easily dodging the question, and he tilts his body in her direction as he continues to walk. She has no idea where they're going but he seems to know. It doesn't escape her that she's following a stranger, someone she's only known for a day but it's odd, she thinks- it doesn't feel as such. It feels far longer.

She shakes her head and pushes a loose strand of her hair behind her ear, watching the ground beneath her as she matches pace with him. "It's interesting company to be in, I must admit."

At that, he laughs quietly and shakes his head. "Takes one to know." He pushes his tongue against the inside of his mouth, looks up at the building beside them, and watches it for a bit, his eyes crinkling at the amount of light before almost immediately looking away and continuing on. They stop at a four way intersection where many cars occupy the streets, with insanely bright headlights. Here, many people waited patiently to cross said intersection. Many people with phones, Clark noticed with narrowed eyes, and would no doubt recognize the Ambassador walking idly with him. He whispered a slight curse before pulling a flat cap from his back pocket. Turning his face away from the lights, he pulls his hair back from his face and tries to tidy his messy locks to where he can fit the hat over it before turning towards her. She watches him as he pulls her hood over her head and breathes in sharply when her eyes meet his own. "Lean your head on my shoulder and look inward."

"Why don't you lean _your_ head on _my_ shoulder?" She shoots back and his eyes shoot from the crowd of people towards her with a piercing glance, conveying his irritation with a slight shift in his jaw and his blue eyes hardening. She simply just smiles, teasingly, eyebrow cocked as she simply pulls her hair to the side before moving to lean her head on his shoulder and feels him shudder at the contact "You know, to anyone else, it'd seem like you're kidnapping me."

As soon as the crown of her head meets the muscular swell of his shoulder, she's immediately assaulted by his scent. The woodsy smell infiltrated her nose a long with a smooth but subtle scent of cologne and something foreign she'd say, something alien. To her utter surprise, it's practically intoxicating and she scoots the slightest bit closer. It doesn't go unnoticed by him, of course. He, being the all aware, alien, shady, farm boy, nothing gets past him. Out of all the people, she sighs.

"Is that so?" He asked with a small smile playing at his pink lips as he wrapped his large arm around her underneath his jacket that she's still wear before settling above her hip, respectively. She nudges his head up with the crown of her own and tilts inward as he said. He inhales sharply when she does so, tensing noticeably when she turns into him as soon as a man with glasses looks up at them. "I might just consider that next time. Would make things a lot easier… Ow."

He rubs the area of his side as to where she hit it.

"You assume there will be a next time." She says and she can see the little hairs rising on his neck when her breath blows across it. It shouldn't be comforting, knowing how he reacts to her, her presence, but her heart, her mind finds it so.

"Oh, trust me, princess…" He breathes with a small dangerous smile, adjusting the cap on his head and watches the people surrounding them with narrowed, calculating eyes. "There will be."

She adjusts her head against his shoulder to look up at him, watching his cerulean eyes move quickly between person and object. They glow with the light, she notices, noticeably emphasizing the hue. "How can you be so sure?"

"If you don't mind me being so… Blunt, I…" He inhales sharply and sighs, turning towards her, his eyes don't find her but focus on a spot near her feet. He's deep in his thoughts, she can tell, he can't and will not focus on one thing. It's a minute before he finally decides to meet her eyes and the light is close to changing, soon to allow them the cross the intersection. He doesn't seem to care though, as if they had all the time in the world. Closing his eyes, he breathes out and tries once more, "I find myself drawn to you…"

"In what way…?" She asks, twisting her head farther in his warmth when a group of people begin to take selfies. She looks up to find him, watching her and she tries not to focus too much on their proximity. It's almost impossible with the fact that their practically sharing the same oxygen, he breathes in, she breathes out, and its noticeable when the hairs on his beard move. _He's so close._ In all honesty, she wasn't even concerned with the closeness of his body but the proximity of his lips.

"Something fairly dangerous."

Before she knows it, the light turns red and the hand holding them to the sidewalk immediately turns to a figure walking.

Clark waits a moment, watching the other pedestrians carefully, until they're the only ones left to cross. He moves forward and she unconsciously follows, gripping the shirt he wears with both hands as to not fall. He's walking so fast, mind focused on getting away from all the flashing lights, and he's holding her with so much strength she's not even sure if she's not walking anymore or if he's holding her up. They make it across so unnaturally quick and she wonders for a brief moment, eyes widened in question on whether he used his alien speed to cross but he hadn't. She was too far gone in her mind to live in the five seconds it took to cross the intersection. He notices but it doesn't deter his stride, trying to gain as much distance from all the cellular light.

She wonders why he doesn't slow from his stride, why he won't give her the smallest of slack to actually walk, prompting her to look up at him.

What has him so afraid, she wonders.

And why risk it, for her?

 **. . . . .**

They've parted once they are a good, two to three blocks away.

His arm slipped from her waist, immediately severing the warmth they shared. She lets the grip she has on his shirt slip but he lets her keep the hoodie for future reference. Whatever happened, their moment is severed and whatever connection they hold is conscious and they are oh so very wary.

He's behind her, at an angle where it seems as if he's beside her and she's alert to his presence. He hasn't earned her trust, they both know, even though he hasn't done anything to lose it. She's unsure on what to do, to run, to fly away, or to turn around and confront him, ask, no, demand to know why he's here, why after practically running her away from his home that he wants to talk to her now. Frustration is slowly brewing and she doesn't know what to do with it. She doesn't know what to do with herself, it's ridiculous and she wishes one of her gods would bless her with the wisdom. This is probably the first ever situation where she's lost as to what to do. The first time she's ever met her match, where someone has similar powers as her own, maybe even stronger and could endure a fight long enough with her to destroy this city. Adding onto this, they both have some sort of animosity towards each other. She looks up at him. He doesn't seem dangerous. In fact, he seems carefree, at ease. Hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans that hang dangerously low on his sinewy hips and she tries to ignore the curves of his lower abdomen, his Adonis line, she remembers and tries to forget the brand of underwear he's wearing when he crouches down to hand a homeless man some cash. She's watching the transaction, the kindness and sincerity in his blue serene eyes. The homeless man nods enthusiastically and muttering 'thank you' and 'God bless you'. Clark simply nods in acknowledgement, not necessarily knowing what to do but awkwardly skidding along, walking away from the incredibly grateful man. Clark's eyes shoot towards her, looking at her. There's something in his eyes. Maybe he's making sure she's following. She has no idea. The homeless man is watching the both of them with a small knowing smile, clutching his newfound money tightly to his chest. When she's made her way next to him, Clark still watching her, she crouches down, opens her clutch and triples the amount he has. He gapes at her.

"What's your name?" She asks quietly, feeling the intensity of a familiar gaze on her and immediately tries to wave it off.

"J-Joh-Johnny," He stutters in response.

"Well, Johnny, to my knowledge there's a hotel about a block away, cheap, but warm. A lot warmer than this current weather. They have a diner… Go, I insist." She rises and so does he. He holds the bill tightly to his chest as well, along with the twenty dollars Clark must have given him.

"Thank… Thank you." He praises, looking up at her as if she's some sort of untold goddess and she's given him the answers to all life's problems.

Clark does nothing, just watches on as the man shakes her hand enthusiastically before kissing it repeatedly. He ignores the flash of red he sees when the stranger's lips connect with the back of her hand. Over and over again. Rubble from a brick that he's clutching falls to the ground and curses, immediately he removes his flexing hand from the side of the building he's standing next to. He claps his hands together and wipes it on his jeans, eyes glancing up when he hears the familiar clacking of heels.

"Just couldn't help yourself, could you?" He asks with a slight smile.

"It's almost forty degrees out here, Clark. Even though it's not filled with a battle of sorts, it's still equivalent to saving someone's life," She meets him head on, eyes narrowing on the slight bit of fresh brick pieces now on the ground.

He walks towards her, closer than necessary before he's a breath away from her. Tugging the jacket, she's wearing, _his jacket_ , he says, "Maybe, we should share the jacket then. You know, body heat and all that?"

She pauses, lips parted to let out a soundless gasp. _No,_ her mind immediately answers but the lasso is _burning_ against her thigh. There's something about him that captures her and she can't deny it with the lasso wrapped around her. He has this sardonic omniscient charm that she loses herself in. The way he talks, the way he holds himself is undeniably drawing her in. She considers it. She wishes it wasn't true, she wishes it was a simple joke but it's not. It's more. But it shouldn't be, seeing that she's with someone else. It's bad. She knows it is. This growing fascination. _Addiction._ She doesn't know why. What is it about him, she begs whatever deity who holds the answer. Hera, Zeus, Gaea, Artemis, Apollo. Whoever. Alas, they answer with silence. It's worse than she previously thought.

Seeing her internal struggle he decides to give way, laughing lightly when he says, "I'm, uh, kidding… Earth's climate doesn't affect me."

Much to his bewildered happiness, a smile creeps on her face and she shoves him in the stomach, successfully shoving him back an inch. He lets her. "You are unbearable."

"You contradict that statement with your actions, princess… You make it seem easy." He adds, turning on his heel of his boots and taking small steps away from her. She understands that he's waiting for her to follow and does so, much happier than she was earlier.

Falling in step with him, she continues, "Endurance, fortunately, for you, is one of my strong suits."

His eyebrow rises from its current position, arching and he turns to her before muttering absentmindedly, "I have no doubt."

She smiles, shoving her hands in his jacket pockets. He doesn't mind, just continues. They continue to walk in silence, the occasional dog bark and car horn sounding around them. The night is beautiful, she decides well into the walk. Most of the tall buildings have closed, nonetheless, there were a few late night workers who sat in the light of their office, typing up papers or sending out files. Diana didn't necessarily care enough to find out but she was fascinated. There were people in pubs, some lonely and lost, some lost but in love, and others just getting drunk out of their mind. She smiled at the simplicity of it. He didn't miss it out of the corner of his eye and tried to ingrain the image in his mind. She was almost shocked to find herself curious about these people, who they were, their story. What drove people to do such things during the night that they could easily do during the day? Of course there was some sort of vibe or air about the night life that was beginning to attract Diana but still- what drove people to get stupidly drunk or to drown their sorrows alone, at a bar of all places. She wonders.

He watches her from the corner of his eye.

She doesn't miss his glances but doesn't call him out on it. On any other occasion she would but she can't deny that she's been stealing glances at him as well.

They pass a brightly colored building before he pauses, swiftly dipping into the alley next to it which is on the contrary, almost totally pitch black. She's startled to find his hand latching onto her arm, his fingers encircling around the bare skin. His eyes narrow when he sees the bright light of her sword materializing in her opposite hand.

"Nuh uh, princess, I wouldn't do that if I were you…" He grunts and wags a finger at her, a small teasing smile crossing his features. He's almost satisfied to see her sword slowly fade back into the magical place where it came from. She looks at him warily and his eyes flash with irritation. "Please… Just… Trust me…"

"And why should I do that?" She asks and tilts her head, searching his eyes for something, anything to have a peek inside.

Clark snorts, scratches his head through the cap before leaning back against the building behind him, with crossed arms. "You've come this far, haven't you? Why stop now."

She pauses in realization and casts him a suspicious glance. "You make a fairly odd point. Why _have_ I been following you all night?"

He gives her a lopsided grin. "Ma always told me it was the charm."

"That's not what she told me." She says with a dazzling yet teasing smile.

"Her mind gets a bit fuzzy when she's sleepy." He says and half the fight's in dragging his eyes from her red lips while the other is trying to form a coherent thought; nonetheless, say something intelligible. It takes a moment too long to his utter bewilderment and concern, to remind himself of why they were there to begin with and he shakes his head. He opens a door next to them and Diana is immediately greeted with a scent of foreign foods. Clark smiles at her before entering first, moving to hold the door for her. He leans against it and holds out his hand for her, very aware of her wary and unsure look.

"Here's the answer to your first question… I wanted to say thank you… For what you did at the press conference, for keeping my secret. You didn't have to and I gave you every reason not to… Forgive me if this is too much but and me being impartially secretive all night but, uh, that was a fairly big deal to me. You lied to them all… For me, including to your… boyfriend…" He looks down and shrugs before his gaze reaches her once more, and his eyes take on a deeper side of sincerity. "I just thought… Well, a little black birdy told me that you deserved more than a shitty thank you card and I read on one of those articles that you like Chinese… So, here we are."

She looks around. It is indeed a Chinese restaurant. It's small but bright, various colors scattered around the room. On one side of the room is a counter with a golden cash register and behind it a red curtain with brown intricate designs weaved into it. On the other side was a few tables and booths, a rusty old gumball machine, a Pacman game lodged between the front entrance and a bouncy ball dispenser. On the far side of the room are two large windows looking out onto the street with a large neon sign hanging dangerously on the inside, blinking every now and then. An old chandelier hung in the middle of the room, casting yellow light all over the room. She noticed little ducks and turtles were painted onto it, some were halfway peeled off. Aside from the sound of sizzling food she can hear the faint sound of music. She doesn't recognize the artist or song but it sounds beautiful nonetheless. After scanning the inside, she notices that there's no one else here and turns to Clark with a questioning glance.

"The owner owes me… And I think it'd be odd if someone saw the Themysciran Ambassador with little ol' me."

She doesn't know what to say. No one has done this for her, ever and it takes her far longer than necessary to register it. She can't get any words out, she's trying to say everything but nothing at all and almost chokes. He tilts his head at her and brings his hand up farther, waving it mildly in front of her face.

"You comin' or what?"

She simply nods and slowly walks in, doing another double take of the area. He watches from behind her as he closes the door, trying to take in her reaction. Was she happy, sad, angry, confused? He couldn't tell and it was beginning to make him frustrated. Shaking his head, he places his hand on the small of her back and guides her towards their designated table. It's by the window, much to her pleasure and he moves around her, pulling out a seat for her. She follows suite, smiling almost shyly as she places herself in the chair and waits as he takes his own. As he does so, she pauses and catches a glimpse of his shirt in the rustic lighting and can't stop the laughter that flows. His head snaps up to see the source of her amusement but pauses at the sight of her. She has the biggest smile on her face and he can't help but stare. It takes him by surprise and his smirk dies with her radiating beauty. _Damn_ , he breathes out heavily and he leans on the chair behind him, giving his growing weak knees a break from her. She's too amused to notice but when her amused eyes meet his, he's abruptly pulled out of his stupor and looks down to see what's so funny and can't help the smile that adorns his own face.

He's wearing a dark blue shirt with her Wonder Woman symbol on it that's most definitely form-fitting.

"Um, in all honesty," He begins, wiping at his nose as he tries to remember the exact moment he bought it and the excuse that came along with it. "I'm… Actually a big Wonder Woman fan."

"Is that so?" She asks, smile still gracing her face along with a perfectly curved brow rising in question as she perches her hand on her hand. "And all this time, I thought you had a fleeting bit of animosity towards her."

"No," He waves it off," Of course not."

"You really didn't have to do… All this, especially that," She motions towards the entirety of the restaurant absentmindedly with her hand before pointing to the skin tight shirt he wear. He shakes his head, his fringe absently falling in front of his eyes. "No, you're right, I didn't have to…"

He leant forward, his hands supporting him on the table and pauses an inch in front of her face, his cool breath fanning out against her lips.

"I _wanted_ to."

Immediately, he stands and she stares up at him. He winks at her before disappearing behind the red curtains from earlier. She watches as he retreats, trying desperately to ignore the way his shirt clings to every muscle fiber and leans back in her chair. He was, she decided, an incongruity. She had never, in all of her lives, met someone like him. He was _so_ different from what she was experienced to. The privileged life of a princess and an ambassador, yet, she finds the most fun in a farm boy with powers out of this world. Fun. She wanted to smile, something she wasn't that accustomed to. Yes, of course, she had her few and simple enjoyments but something was different with him, she felt, almost, free. No hiding, no restrictions, no secrets. Is this what he offered to everyone he encountered, a once in a lifetime opportunity of speechlessness and oddities that one's mind couldn't imagine? Yes, he left her perplexed. Never has she met anyone like this, someone who could take her by surprise, someone who kept her on her toes and kept up with her speed, almost outmatching it. She almost couldn't describe it, the way he made her feel, what went through her when he said something you don't hear every day. He almost made her forget, made her forget the fact that she was Wonder Woman, a member of the notorious Justice League, or the Themysciran Ambassador, or the future ruler of Themyscira and held multitudes of responsibilities. It was as if, the whole world disappeared with him, as if there was nothing outside this small Chinese restaurant. It was a beautiful illusion, she had to admit.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, old man. You know my ma would be all over your ass, if she heard about this?" She turned to see Clark coming back, four smoking hot plates on his arm, a small witty grin on his face with a small tinge of concentration, and a small Asian man following him, looking all the more angry and shouting at him in what she recognized to be Chinese. Clark doesn't stop though, his entire focus is on the four plates he's holding and making his way towards the table. She moves to help him, rising out of her seat.

"No… No, I got it." He says, his tongue sticking out in concentration. Diana smiles at the look, something she thought she'd never see on his face. The small man is still following him, ramming his small fist into his back that she's sure doesn't hurt him one bit. "There…"

He sets the plates down, two in front of her and two on his side before immediately turning towards his angered companion. She's almost startled when he starts speaking Chinese, almost natively. He's speaking at an increasingly fast rate and she almost forgets that she can translate. She hears something about fishing and Arthur before Clark cuts him off with a small smile.

"I'll handle it, I promise, Mr. Li… Go upstairs, get a good night sleep and don't worry about a thing." He murmurs, turning who she assumes is the owner of this establishment around and pushing him lightly towards the red curtains.

"Clark," Diana chastises and the two men stop, turning around and staring at her," Why are you shoving the owner of this charming establishment out of his own business, even after he's cooked and closed his place of business for us?"

He simply opens his mouth before closing it abruptly.

She approaches the two and she gently drags Clark's hands off Mr. Li, holding one of them as a sign for him not to return it. He watches her with eyes she can't recognize but doesn't bother to deduce the meaning behind his intense gaze; instead she turns towards the owner and smiles. Speaking slowly in Chinese, she begins to thank him for what he's done and offers him a chance to join them for dinner.

He smiles brightly. She feels Clark stiffen beside her. Surprisingly, Mr. Li shakes his head, thanking her for the offer before calling Clark multitudes of offensive things in his language before wishing her a goodnight. She responds the same and smiles, watching and listening as he retreats upstairs. She turns abruptly, making her way back to her seat but not before sending a wink to Clark. "That didn't seem so hard; don't know why it took you so long."

He hums and watches her as she returns to her seat, following shortly behind. "Well, there's a certain charm about beautiful women in expensive dresses."

Diana takes a seat and watches as he does the same. He scoots his chair forward and places his elbows on the table, grabbing for his fork. She pauses. "Are you insinuating that women gain the things they do, solely on their looks?"

He hears some slight agitation in her voice and fights back a smirk. He picks at his food before answering her, his gaze never wavering. "No… I'm insinuating that men are desperate enough to fall for it. The sight of a pretty lady and they stop thinking with their heads..."

She tilts her head at his response. Never, had she ever heard someone explain it that way. Well, a man, at least. She heard plenty of women complain over it but to hear a man admit to his gender's faults.

"And what about you? Are you a victim of a woman's beauty?" She asks with a skeptical glance. Clark smiles a little, stabs his food with his fork before taking a bite. She picks up her own fork and digs into her own food as she awaits an answer.

"Would you believe me if I said no?" He answers almost shyly. She watches him. He doesn't look at her this time, just picks at his food some more. "Looks… Attractiveness… It's not enough for me but a woman with substance, with depth, will, and complexity… Yeah, then I guess you could call me a victim."

She didn't need the lasso to know he wasn't lying. It was obvious, the way he ducked his head shyly and almost caved in on his self, his resistance on saying so out loud, and the way his heart was beating erratically to gain the beat it previously had. It takes a moment after a few bites of food before it returns to its normally slow pace. She doesn't respond, just eyes him from the fallen parts of her hair and eats her food quietly.

"What about you, hmm?" He asks, wiping his mouth with the corner of his napkin before placing it in his lap. She raises her brow, her mouth too occupied with chewing that it can't ask him to clarify. "What type of man does the infamous Wonder Woman look for?"

"None… Since I already have one," She says around her fork as she goes for another bite, missing the way his eyes flash red for a brief moment, how his hand which isn't clutching the fork breaks off a part of the table it's leaning on. _Control_ , he can imagine Bruce saying and he curses him. She looks up at him when she feels the table jerk. He's standing, his back to her.

He mutters a small excuse me and something about a new fork.

"You know… Clark, this is really good, honestly… Far better than I expected." She compliments, moving her food into separate bites before taking another.

She can hear him hum agreeably from the other side of the curtains.

He returns shortly, clutching another fork in his hand before taking his seat. Immediately, he dives right in. Theirs a moment of comfortable silence before either one of them talk, Clark solely focused on his food and Diana glancing towards him every now and then. In the time, the music has changed and it begins to rain outside. The neon sign flickers but manages to stay on. They hear the occasional thump of Mr. Li's footsteps upstairs but that's all. Nothing but the pitter patter of rain, the occasional clink of silverware, the hum of the game machine behind her, and Mr. Li's TV surrounding them.

She's done with her first plate and he's nearing his second when she decides to speak.

"Thoughtfulness… Open-mindedness… Strength and will, of course… And _complexity_."

He pauses, his fork slowing, and he looks up at her from beneath his fringes. Sitting back, he watches her, analyzes her, dropping his fork and placing both hands in his lap. His eyes never leave her and her eyes never leave him. She wonders what he sees, what he's thinking when his eyes flick back and forth between her left and right eye, when they trace the outline of her nose, the curve of her jaw, the dimples in her cheeks. He cracks a small smile and she tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his eyes follow swiftly. "And I assume the man you have now, possess all these qualities?"

"Enough…" She says, nodding lightly. "Why do you ask?"

He breathes out a sigh. The song changes and he leans back down, picking up his fork and picking with his food. "Just kind of curious what your life's like…"

It's a lie. She can't tell. He doesn't give way.

Clark laughs, lightly. "I mean… I'm curious as to what a superhero, a diplomat, and princess' life is like. I wouldn't know, of course. Hell, I barely know anything…"

She smiles. It's small but lifts the mood significantly.

"I don't know anything about this whole Ambassador thing. What exactly do you do? Cause the image I've been painting has to do with you having brunch with Queen and President on a Sunday morning before being called away by the infamous Batman to save the world from some half-cocked psychopath claiming the world did him wrong... Am I spot on?"

Diana laughs and he finds himself smiling.

"Come on… I know there's more to you than meets the eye…"

"Actually… There's not much." She corrects and the smile on his face fades slowly and his eyes focus on her. "From your knowledge, what you see is what you get. I go to work every day at the Embassy, speak with Diplomats and Ambassadors all over the world. I attend to Balls, Galas, events of that sort, for charity or whatnot. And when the world's in trouble I respond with my team. After the problem has been dealt with and enemies have been vanquished, I attend to the wounded. Then, per usual, I share this information with Colonel Trevor who always aids in the cleanup and is not so conveniently my boyfriend. Then… The next day… I do the same thing over again."

He tilts his head. She's not looking at him but a spot on the floor. He can tell by the way she's looking that she's in her mind. Something inside him, demands that he bring her back.

"Well, princess, if it's any consolation… I work on a farm all day and night." He says and he's so desperate to see her smile once more.

"Why?" She asks and he's almost taken aback by the question, by the seriousness of it. "You have the strength of Gods, the speed of Hermes, the strength of Kratos, and the might of Zeus, yet you choose to attend to cows and horses in the middle of nowhere."

His eyes flashed red.

"It isn't about what I have or what I _possess_ … It's about what I don't want to lose." He says, his eyes leaving her and turning to his hands in his lap. She can see, without looking into his blue orbs, that he's agitated and can hear the angered, slow, beat of his heart. "I tried once to reveal myself to the world and I almost lost everything that I cared for… _It's not as easy as you think to give yourself to the world…_ Especially the only life you've ever known… I don't care for monuments… Or world-wide fame, or popularity, or money, or women throwing themselves at me, I don't want a supermodel girlfriend attached to my arm 24/7, I don't want people worshipping me or naming a holiday after me. What would that amount to when you lose your soul in the process, hmm?"

He's angry now and she can tell by the way he refuses to meet her gaze.

"You know…" He begins, softer now that he's taken a breath. "I don't live out in the middle of nowhere for horses and cows… It's only ever been for _her._ Nothing else… She's given her life to me, both of them. I've cost them so much… _So much_ , and I intend to repay every single waking second I owe them… Her. She deserves that… Martha deserves that."

He brings up one of his hands and rubs the heel of his palm in one of his eyes that she now notices are red rimmed. He sniffs and looks out the window.

"I'm sorry… That was ignorant of me to say."

He shakes his head and swallows causing his Adam's apple to bop up and down. His head falls softly against the window and the pitter patter of rain makes itself known. It's soft, soothing to his sensitive ears.

"If you weren't who you were now, if you didn't possess the powers you did… Where would you be? Krypton doesn't exist and you belong to this planet. Who would you be?" She asks quietly, head leaning against the cool window screen to catch his gaze. His eyes move slowly towards her.

"I… I don't know, to be honest. This is the life I've only ever possessed. I take care of a farm, tend to the livestock and crops but… But I can also fly to other parts of the world, Brazil, Japan, Australia, the Bermuda, China, Russia, India. In an instant, I can learn their language in less than a minute, I can solve any math problem given to me faster than any ordinary human. Every day I spend on this planet, I grow stronger… I can go to outer space and bare my body to the sun. I can't tell you what it'd like to be human cause I'm not one, I'm so far from it…" He notices the way her eyes fall from his own and his narrow. _What is it about her that makes him feel so much?_ Sighing, he continues. "I… try, though."

His heart unnaturally warms when he sees her eyes ignite with interest. His lips twitch.

"How so?" She scoots impossibly closer and he wants so much to incinerate the table that separates them.

"Every now and then… I go to this, uh, Church, I suppose. I have absolutely no idea what it's called but I attend every Sunday morning with Martha and Arthur. I go there and I walk in… And I take a seat in the back. We watch as other people come in as the service is about to begin. Everyone takes their seat and a lady comes around, wearing a hat with a flower, and she hands everyone a program… Including me. She smiles at me while doing so and I always find myself smiling back. I sit in, watch them not watching me, watch them pay attention to the man on the podium spewing out words about… About a God, I arrived on Earth. He speaks of vengeance, righteousness, mercy, forgiveness. He'd preach it and people would shout and stand and they'd always startle me… The man at the podium would point at people and tell them that anything they asked of this… God, that He would grant it, that He might not grant it in the way you want it but in the way you need it. I had never seen so much faith in a God no one could see but one time, after everything was over, I walked up to the man behind the podium and asked him who this God was and he told me that this God had no name, that this mighty deity had need for no name. And I asked him, why's that? He smiled, this odd smile and said there's no power in a name but only what lies behind it. Then the music would begin, the choir sings and everyone rises," Clark smiles slightly at the memory. Clearing his throat, he continues, "It's a happy, cheerful tune… I remember, uh, my Pa, Johnathon Kent… Before he passed… He would always dance, every single Sunday, he'd dance to the tune and always afterwards, when we were home, he'd hum it happily, sing along to it if his mouth wasn't stuffed with pie."

He barks out a laugh and Diana is almost startled at its randomness. She notices that it seems almost boyish, child-like, compared to his other accompanying laughter. This, she sees in his eyes, is genuine. He's experiencing a moment of nostalgia and she doesn't dare interrupt.

"The song would begin and he'd sing along with the choir as the… How do you say, the, uh, the Pastor comes in. He's shouting, not angrily though, it's happy and it always seemed to make everyone rise, including my father who would clap louder than anyone in the room. The Pastor would turn and look at us, look at John then to me then back. They would shake hands and then he'd turn back to me before kneeling. I was startled at first because at the time, people in school thought me a freak for some of the things I did, but I had looked at this man and he had smiled. He _smiled_ at me, told me his name and asked me how I was doing that fine morning. I hesitated, his kindness had frightened me and it took a little nudge from my pa before I had stuttered out a good. The man laughed, placed his hand on my shoulder and told me I'd be something great one day and asked for God to guide me. I had no idea what he meant but before I could stutter out another response, he rose, shouted to the crowd good morning and made his way to the podium… It was rare but I felt it, the first wave of humanity."

"What was?" Diana asks softly.

Clark smiles gently before his lips turn into a forced line, lifts his head from the window and leans forward. His eyes are slightly watery and she can hear the slight stumble of his heart, his uneven breaths. He takes one deep breath, it quivers, and he says, "Human kindness."

"What happened to this preacher…?"

He sniffs, flicks his forefinger against the tip of his nose and sits up straight. "He's gone, buried next to the church. Attended the funeral myself. _Pastor… William… Montgomery, 1955 – 2017._ "

"… You said he preached of a God with no name." She remembers.

He shakes his head, crossing his arms and leaning on the table with them, shoving his plate to the side. "He isn't part of your beliefs… He's something else, entirely. I don't know what but I understood that my father and mother feared Him."

"Do you believe? Have you the same fear?"

"Martha and Johnathon told me after the first time she took me to Church that I don't have to, that I'm not obligated to worship something I don't understand, that I don't have to believe and I wouldn't have to go with them anymore. At the time, I was still hung up on Rao, a god from Krypton that had died with the planet. So I was hesitant at first to believe at first but in all honesty, I find my belief wavering. I feel as if there's more, as if I'm… Connected to this nameless God and that there's something coming… Not for me, specifically but something that I was _meant_ to do."

His words fall softly on her and it sends her into her thoughts. If she hadn't known that he came from another planet she'd think he was a demigod. He undoubtedly possessed the power of one, not to mentioning the body. But a connection to a God? If he were talking to someone else they'd probably laugh or think him positively insane. Fortunately, for him, she's not someone else.

"Ah, shit, that sounded stupid…" He bows and rubs a hand through his hair, nails soon scratching the scalp and messing up his already tousled hair. She can't help but admire the movement, her eyes watching the movement and her hand twitches.

Diana smiles as she watches him plant his head in the table, no doubt leaving a crack by the sound of it. "No, it didn't… I believe in my own deities and they guide me every now and then."

Clark grumbles something unintelligible and rolls his head to the side, peering up at her with one oceanic eye. "At least yours talk to you."

She nods, relaxing, leaning back in her chair, placing her hands in her lap. "Occasionally… When they want to or need to."

He hums, flexing his arms and hands, and immediately sits up. She realizes, he's reeling, from all that emotion he just gave way, everything he just revealed to her. He's not use to it, she can tell, the way his heart beat is trying to find a pace to settle, how he can't sit still. His eyes are almost zoned out, pupils completely narrowed. He's opened a portion of his heart to her, trusted her with this knowledge he's given her. He trusts her. Why so quickly? Why so effortlessly and carelessly? What has she done to earn this? She doesn't know what to do but then he's back, his pupils fixing back to their previous size and zeroing in on her. His hands flex and his arms react to the action. By the gods, she's already admitted that she'll never get used to that.

But that, she realizes, is him, always full of surprises.

"Your turn."

She pauses, eyebrow rising and her head tilting further as if she hasn't heard him correctly. "Pardon?"

"I get a question now, princess," He hums and his hand shoots out, curling into a fist before opening again, "Fair is fair and I unnaturally trust you for some odd reason so give me it."

Her mind is trying desperately to catch up with the situation.

"The lasso." He demands and rolls his head once more. "It compels you to tell the truth, am I right? You trusted me and I trust you but I don't want you to be forced so either give it to me or put it on the table."

She crosses her arms over her chest and levels him with a suspicious look. "How do you know I possess it?"

"X-ray vision…" He answers, making a fist and opening it once more.

She clears her throat. "You are fully aware that you saying that… Well, let's just say a lot of things come to mind."

Clark shakes his head with a sober look. "First off, you'd be able to tell and secondly… I have a strong hatred for such behavior."

"I…," Diana looks in his eyes and is almost partially startled to see the level of serious and anger they hold. There's absolutely no room for doubt. Who is this man, she questions, this foreign being with all true intentions and holds no ill will towards women? She's asking anyone who will answer and immediately she's berated with answers. _A male, therefore, a liar,_ Hera spits. _A questionable warrior but who does not favor the companionship of a beautiful siren?_ Zeus wonders. _Not questionable but indeed a warrior_ , Poseidon comments. _I cannot tell you child but I favor him, he tends to field, nurtures them, protects them, dare I say that be reflected upon him as a male,_ Demeter answers. _Sweetheart, I dare not answer for he is a mystery to me but do keep him close,_ Athena interrupts. _Follow him, child, and find out,_ Gaea answers. Apollo hums, _his intentions are indeed true, my dear sister, do give him your trust for I fear he may need it. Do not fear to give into him, child, that body can withstand and endure more than your current human male counterpart can,_ Aphrodite answers unabashedly and Diana can imagine the seductress' smile. _Mold him, Diana, turn him into something great,_ the blacksmith, Hephaestus says wearily. Her head falls at the magical onslaught and he's there, beside her, hand on the side of her cheek, running softly through her hair, the pads of his fingers ghosting over her scalp, when she fails to wince, he retracts, eyes her a moment, his eyes flashing bright white. She wants to smile at his consideration but she can't. He shouldn't be doing this, taking care of her. He shouldn't be this close, _this_ worried. It's dangerous, she knows and she's tempted, damn him, she's tempted to let him continue. Sighing, she reassures him with a small smile before removing his hand. He doesn't fight her, just lets his eyes dim back to blue. It's beautiful but she refuses to look.

"I believe you." She remembers and reaches for the lasso wrapped around her leg. He turns away and she can hear his quiet footsteps as he returns to his seat while she places the lasso next to her on the edge of the ridge of her chair. Looking up, she finds him waiting patiently. "Well… Ask away," She says with a small hesitant smile.

"Hold on…" He says. "I'm thinking."

"By the gods, Clark." She admonishes.

"I don't want to waste it…" He responds with a small, shy smile before shaking his head. "How do you do it…?" He finally asks after a beat. "Keep up so many faces and remain true to yourself? How do you know what you want, what you really want, and not something you keep yourself content with cause it's… Convenient?"

"A little personal, don't you think?" She asks, raising one perfectly shaped eyebrow.

His own brow rises as well, challenging hers with a small dangerous smile playing at his lips. "Oh, no, princess… We've passed personal."

"Is that so?" She questions.

"Fair is fair."

"Mhm and is that your reasoning behind everything?"

"The way I see it, I know you better than you know yourself," He breathes out, leaning back in his chair, hands splayed on his lap when he wasn't making ridiculous hand gestures. "Either that or I'm fortunate enough to see a side of you no one else does… Which one is it?"

She doesn't respond, eliciting a small knowing smirk from him. He tilts his head and continues, "Maybe it's both…"

He's working his way towards hitting a nerve, he can tell. Her head nods forward, meeting his dark blue eyes with her own, she asks quietly, "And why would I do that for a total stranger?"

"How do you go back to being strangers with someone who has seen your soul…?" He asks and she tilts her head, her eyes finding his. He meets her head on, his eyes never wavering from hers. She's confused, questioning herself, asking herself the same exact question. He, unsurprisingly, is unfazed, just waiting. Waiting for her to see it. See what, she's not entirely sure but he's patient. " _A Question That Bleeds_ by Nikita Gill, you should read it some time."

And just like that, the spell is broken, evoking an eye roll for her part.

"Now… Will you please?" He motions towards the question that she left hanging high and dry with a slow flick of his wrist.

She stares at him for a moment and it's a while before she says anything.

"No… I don't." She watches his eyes narrow and run across her face. Her gaze falls. "When I came to this world, the Man's World, I mean… I was thrust into this new lifestyle and I was almost overwhelmed by it all. Everything was so new and I… I wanted to try it all. Of course, I still held up my duty and all but I guess… I guess I got lost in it all and before I knew it, I was being swallowed up by the world I had once found fascinating. I was thrust into my new life head on, I was given everything I thought I had desired but it wasn't. It was the curiosity that drew me in and I was determined to be a part of this new world. I had won the war, begun dating the first man I had ever met, and became the Ambassador for my people. It was two months later when Gigantica attacked, terrorizing the city New York. I stopped her, of course… And before the battle was even over I was approached by a man in a cowl and a cape. He told me he was looking for people like me, that he wanted to make a team. My knowledge of the Patriarch's world at the time was half of what I have now so I was confused as to why a man dressed as a Bat would approach me in such way."

He laughs and remembers Bruce doing the same to him a few years ago. Diana smiles with amusement as well before continuing, "Anyway, I had agreed, was told that I'd help a lot of people. We did… We still do. I hadn't even realized I was torn into three, separated and torn apart by all the different obligations I possessed…. I had to stay true to my ways, my people, while also accepting the Patriarchs World and being open-minded about it. There were so many people, men and woman together, united, and all with different cultures and ethnicities… Beliefs. My mind almost couldn't comprehend it. I had never seen something so… Different from my own culture and it was hard for me to accept seeing that I had spent most of my life practically cursing them all. What was I to do? They needed me and in a way I needed them… To move forward in my life. I hadn't realized that I'd be undone. Everyone needed something different from me, demanded something tangible from the remains of… Me. The League needed a warrior while the Patriarch's World desired a diplomat for the Island of Themyscira… And my mother… She desired a daughter, whom of which would soon be the Queen. And the man's heart I hold, desires a woman that I am not. In all honesty, Clark, as you say… I don't _do_ it; I mix my desires with the worlds just so I can get by, so I can at least have some semblance of happiness."

He breathes in heavily, his Wonder Woman merchandise, expanding largely on his chest before it deflates back down to its original size. She watches the movement for a bit, in and out, in and out, he breathes. It's almost hypnotic.

"I understand that you feel as if you hold a responsibility towards this world, that you _owe_ them something… But… Princess..." He stops, rubs at his eyes, and sighs, looking outside the window for a brief moment before turning back towards her. He clears his throat and licks his lips before attempting to meet her own. To his utter disappoint, she wouldn't look at him and she was startled when she heard a low disagreeing growl emit from him. No matter, he didn't give up in chasing her gaze, softly pulling her from her thoughts to be with him. He begged demandingly for her to look up at him. Relenting against his determination she looked towards him. Blue and hazel. She sighed and deflated. _Why him?_

He tilts his head and she watches as something fierce in his eyes ignite.

"You don't owe this world a damn thing…Especially after they've taken so much from you…" He says and she can see the bright determination in his eyes. "You'll find yourself and when you do… The world will go silent, men will not fall at your beauty but your power, and women will admire what you've blossomed into and hold you as someone to look up to. Your allies will watch on in awe as you conquer what they cannot and your enemies will quiver before you in fear, begging for your mercy… That, Diana Prince, I can promise you."

She can't help but stare at him, in awe, admiration, happiness, fascination, she didn't know what but what she did know was that this man, this practical demigod, was going to be the death of her. Instead of dwelling on it though, instead of thinking of how his smile makes her heart flutter unnaturally, instead of thinking about how his voice makes her something warm pool in the pit of her stomach, or how his presence could cease everything around them. Hera, she sighs. _This man._ She smiles softly at him, letting her hand fall on his which still holds her cheek, her fingers gliding over his knuckles. He shivers and the smile on his face falls slightly.

"And how can you promise that?"

He just smiles, chuckles a little before leaning back in his seat.

 **. . . . .**

 **Meanwhile…**

General Lane sat at his desk, an overly large cigar resting between his lips, eyes watching the man that sat directly across from with him a critical expression, bushy white eyebrows drawn together and his lip curled into something similar to a snarl. Said man was unfazed, glancing around the General's office with mild interest and fiddling with the cane that rested in his hands.

"You have a very… Interesting office, General." He says, flicking the head of his cane absently against some unrecognizable football player's bobble head. He gives a small smile, not genuine but fully sardonic. "Intriguing, I must say."

The General, with a great amount of control, removed his cigar and sighed. "Be quiet and don't touch my things, Luthor."

"Oh, please, do tell, Lane because if I remember correctly… You said, almost exactly, five years ago that, what's _yours is mine_ , and what's _mine is yours._ If it wasn't for my, uh, how do you say, magnanimity, you wouldn't be where you are now. So please, continue to play coy, _Sam_ , I'll do the same when you desire some bribery amongst your government officials or you wish someone you have a slight animosity towards to be _taken care of."_ He taps the bottom of his cane insistently and angrily against the smooth floors of the office, successfully irking the General.

Lane practically flies over his desk, his cigar forgotten as he leers at the millionaire. " _Do. Not…_ Bring that here. This is my workplace. God knows who would hear you."

"It is your fault, you fool!" He shouts in hushed tones, shooting up as well, one hand stomping the cane on the ground, while the other points an insistent finger at the General. "If it wasn't for you and your stupidity, we wouldn't be here! _I_ wouldn't be here! So don't blame me for your mistakes! If it wasn't for you, he wouldn't have escaped. The alien would still be in our grasp and he wouldn't be out revealing himself to the world!"

He plops back down in his seat, defeated, grabs the forgotten cigar and stubs it back in the ash tray. His fingers come up to massage the oncoming headache, thumbs burrowing into his temple. "I…I have a plan."

"You damn fool." Luthor spits, fixing his jacket and taking his own seat. "Do you know how much money it would cost to detain him, to bring him back, nonetheless to find the freak? I'd go bankrupt."

"It has nothing to do with your damned money, if you'd listen," The General continues, adjusting himself before holding down a button on his desk phone. "Wilkins, please send in Colonel Trevor."

" _Yes, sir."_

"I highly doubt that will be effective." Luthor raises a perfectly sculpted brow, his mouth twisted in a look of unsureness.

Lane sits back in his chair; it creaks noticeably with the weight. Wiping his mustache, he continues from his precious statement, "I'm assembling a task force..."

Luthor smiled at him, disdainfully, his pearly white teeth shining brightly in the light, before leaning back in his chair and crossing one leg of the other. "And here I thought the Senator saw that supposed task force void, you bad boy… Or do you wish for my assistance in that matter because if isn't obvious, no. It's time for you to clean your own mess."

"Luckily for the both of us, the Senator need not know about this. I've been contacted by an organization named A.R.G.U.S and they are building a team." Lane retorts, eyes narrowing at Luthor.

At this he pauses, hand stopping mid-air from adjusting his jacket. His head tilts at the newfound knowledge and his hand raises in question. "And what does this Colonel Trevor have to do with it?"

"I'm assigning him to-"The General is soon cut off when there's a knock at his door. He shoots a look at the man adjacent to him, steadily warning him. "Come in."

Steve enters and salutes, spreading his leg a foot apart and raising his hand to his forehead. General Lane gives him a limp salute, not necessarily caring for formality at the moment but allows Steve to assume the resting position. "You called for me, sir."

"Yes…" He clears his throat before motioning towards the man in one of the guest chairs. Steve looks towards him, eyeing the expensive suit, the lack of hair, and the Cheshire grin the man possess. "I would like you to meet Lex Luthor. I would expect you to have heard of him…"

"Of course," He nods dutifully towards his General before turning respectively towards Lex. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. Luthor."

Lex immediately stands, tossing his cane to one hand and holding out the other. "No, pleasure's all mine, especially seeing as you're the one who accidentally discovered an island full of, as I heard, beautiful women."

Steve nods with a small smile, giving the outstretched hand a firm shake.

"So, Colonel," Lex begins, as Steve lets his hand go, shoving his now free hand into jacket pocket, "How would you like to lead a totally legal task force?"

 **. . . . .**

Nothing outside of them exists. They're totally lost in each other, talking of random things that come to mind but never an awkward moment. She's tells him of her life in Themyscira, how amazingly stressful it was, how she had to live up to the expectations of all her people. She tells him of her mother and their people, tells him of how she met Steve and Batman. He listens intently, adding a comment here or there that either has her smiling or laughing aloud. Every time, she does, he beams. When the conversation moves to him, he tells her of how he met Arthur when he was three on vacation in the Atlantic. He'd been abandoned, unconscious, floating on a piece of wood that met the beach. He continues on, telling her of life on the farm, being the number one freak at his school, and his uncontrollable strength but doesn't dwell beyond that. She notices, he avoids the topic of his adoptive Earth father all together, just mentioning the brief parts of his existence in the necessity of the story but that was it. She still listens though. His story, she finds, is fascinating. Completely and utterly fascinating. Soon, when she thinks he's rising to leave and her eyes follow him as he does so, the way his muscles flex and bulge in the small form fitting tee he wears and the way his jeans contour to the shape and curve of his legs, thighs, and rear. By the Gods, she wants to antagonize herself for her behavior but she can't. He's looking at her with a small, teasing smile on his face. "Come here."

She raises a perfectly curved eyebrow at his command. "And whatever for?"

His brows wiggle playfully and his eyes twinkle dangerously towards a machine that sits next to him with moving colorful icons with a logo above it. Pac-Man. "I want to show you something… Come on. Our game, which was rudely interrupted earlier, may have ended but we can continue another."

She shakes her head. "I don't know how to play."

"It's simple… Come here." Clark shoves his hand in his pocket, pulling out, what she recognizes to be a few pounds. Shaking it in his hand and he pulls out 19 pounds before shoving the rest in his pocket. He watches as she rises and waits till she's within arm's reach before he hands her the change. It jingles in her hand as it falls in the palm. He smiles in amusement when she just stands there, awkwardly holding the change. "Put it in the machine… Right in that little slot."

Diana does so, bending down slightly to insert the change and rises after the last one is placed inside. She tries not to jump when the machine comes to life, the volume turning up dramatically and the dim lights brighten drastically. Clark hums, grabbing the edge of the gaming machine and selects the button that says '1 PLAYER' before turning to her.

"Now, look… You see this here? This joystick is all you need to win the game. Move it in the direction you want Pac-Man to go, avoid the ghost looking guys, and eat as many white dots as you can… Got it?" He asks.

By the time she says no, the game has already begun. She's in control of a block of cheese with a moving mouth, whom of which she assumes is this Pac-Man he keeps talking of. He, she is going to assumes that it's a he, moves around by a flick of her fingers. There are white dots, as he said, everywhere, trapped inside this little maze she was in. She noticed, every time, the Pac-Man passed over a dot, it would disappear as if he had eaten it. Alas, she was so entranced and confused that she didn't notice the colorful looking ghost following her. A red one, to be exact, came up from behind her, and she was startled to see 'GAME OVER' in large white print on the screen.

"What does that mean?" Diana motions towards the screen with bewilderment and pure frustration.

"It means you lost, princess," He smiles and comes up beside her, leaning against the machine that still held those haunting white letters. "In all honesty, I expected Wonder Woman to be better at this."

"Shut up. You gave me one second to prepare and I had no idea what I was doing."

Clark tosses his head back in laughter, clutching his midsection while doing so and she shoves him half-heartedly in the shoulder. He doesn't go far like she expected, just a simple inch before he bounces back, still with a look of annoying amusement on his face.

"Aren't warriors supposed to be prepared for anything?" He mockingly raises an eyebrow and his lips twitch as he fights the laughter attempting to burst through.

"You infuriating man, I was trained to wield a sword and shield, to fight things you couldn't possibly imagine. _Not to control a block of cheese and runaway from rainbow colored ghosts."_ She says and that tosses him into another fit of laughter. Clearing her throat, she continues in a calmer, more collected tone, "I would like to try again."

He wipes imaginary tears from his eyes as he searches his pockets for more change. It's a minute before he manages to find the exact amount before handing it to her. Immediately, she shoves the money in before standing to her full height. Clark notices the determination much to his amusement and motions towards the play button. She hits it and the game begins. He watches as she traverses through the maze, left, left, right, up, down. Motioning to the screen absentmindedly he says, "You better watch out there, princess, that blue one is right on your ass… I think the red one's trying to flank. Get the big white circle!"

"Wha-? What does it do?" Diana asks, trying desperately to focus and listen to his instructions all at once. "Hera, no, no, no…"

They're surrounding her.

"They're everywhere Clark, what do I do?" She asks, practically shouting at him. He moves to help her but the game is already over.

"Come here… You need a pro to help you out." He says, shoving off the gaming system and walking behind her. Her eyes attempt to follow him but as soon as he is behind her, she loses sight but catches him in the reflection of the screen in front of her. She can't help the intake of breath when she feels him behind her, his front molding to the curves of her back and she catches his gaze in their fuzzy reflection. They look, almost, perfect. Like a couple, she notes, with his large jacket hoodie wrapped around her lazily and his body melding to hers. This, right here, is what she imagined with Steve when she was still on Themyscira, when she was in the middle of moving between the Man's World and her own. It seems so long ago now. Then, before her thoughts can even register what's going on, his large arms envelop hers, making hers looking so small and delicate compared to his. He's everywhere then, wrapped around her, his scent overflowing her nostrils and his muscles holding rigid against her own. She has no idea what to do, this is the first time she's ever been held by a man like this before in such an intimate and vulnerable position. Oddly, she doesn't find herself lashing. Has he really gained her trust in the amount of time they've spent together that she's willing to let this occur? What was it about him that made it seem like the whole world didn't exist, as if reality was what they were in and not what lie outside this old and cheap Chinese restaurant? He adjusts his stance against her, moving his hips into a solid stance before moving her head with his own to get a better glimpse of the screen. She wants to be surprised at his audacity but in the end, she isn't. He's such a homey and comfortable person. _Trusting._ He was so lax; as if he had everything under control and that any second there wouldn't be a disaster that they'd be needed for. Well, she mainly but still. She looked up at him and watched as he shoved his hand in his pocket to get more change. Why him? What was so special about him other than the obvious, of course. He hadn't displayed a single alien skill ever since they arrived. _This,_ whatever this was, was natural. It was almost as if they were human, baring themselves to each other in the simplest of ways. She, without her titles and obligations, he without his responsibilities and debts. Just, Clark and Diana. He didn't hold her up to some high pedestal and she didn't treat him like a freak. It was so easy. So easy to forget about everything else, especially with him. Steve. Her mother. The Justice League. Criminals. The Embassy. Of course, why would this illicit such trust from her? Was it because she knew for a fact that she elicited the same reaction from him? It was ridiculous, almost, the fact that they could easily get along just like that, as if they hadn't just met yesterday and had known each other forever. It felt like that, she noticed. He had seen her soul without meaning to and she, his. He shifted against her once more, moving more to her side to see the screen before tapping a button. She doesn't want to enjoy it, she doesn't want to lean back, and she doesn't want to want him there.

Fortunately, for her the lasso isn't wrapped around her thigh.

"Just follow my lead, right?" He asked, wrapping his large hand around her small once.

"I highly doubt you'll do any better than me," She says, idle minded, withholding the gasp when his breath brushes against her ear.

He snorts. "Let's play then, princess."

Then, he hits start.

It begins as it always does, Pac-Man comes out slow at first and they're given a five second head start before the ghosts come out. He guides her hand, moves it slowly. She can't focus. No, it's practically impossible with him wrapped around her like this. He's given her enough room to move away but the fact that she won't scares her. He continues on, oblivious. He's managed to last longer than she ever did, maneuvering between the ghosts, slipping here and there. Pac-Man eats a dot that's far bigger than majority of the others. Everything immediately changes and her focus is split between his overwhelming presence and the fact that the all the colorful ghost have turned a dark purple. She watches on in fascination as Clark stops what he's doing to chase after the now purple ghosts. And then much to her surprise, Pac-Man now eats them, making them disappear from the screen. For seven seconds, Clark freely roams the map, his Pac-Man now eating the small circles without worry of ghosts. Her mouth practically hangs from her jaw as he eats the last one and immediately white letters appear on the screen: 'LEVEL COMPLETE'.

His arms disappear from around her to rise triumphantly in the air, his body, which she is consciously aware of, on the other hand doesn't move. "And you doubted me," He mutters with amusement in her ear. "Should've known better, princess."

Diana ignores the shiver that racks through her when his beard scrapes against the shell of her ear but spins around, only to be taken aback by the actuality of his proximity. He huffs and she can feel it blow the hair at her forehead.

"You tempt me." She says, bringing her hand up near his jaw and he watches with narrowed eyes as the golden hilt of her sword appears in her hand. He moves her hand to the side and brings himself closer, the fan of his breath moving from her hairline to her nose. "In what way?"

"You're lucky this place has good food or you'd find yourself going through the counter." She can't let him get to her.

"Ah, what happened to that competitive princess, at the Art Gallery?" His brow rises and his voice grows huskier the longer they hold the conversation.

"She's waiting for you to start the game again." She challenges, not showing any signs of backing down.

"So it's a versus now, huh? Last time I checked you couldn't last two minutes alone, barely one."

"Is an inflated ego an alien thing or just you?"

He laughs and it reverberates through her sternum. "I think I've earned my bragging, rights, princess."

"What _you've_ earned is my sword traversing up your-"

"Woah, woah, no need for hostility," He raises his hand in innocent gesture. "All of this can be proven with a simple game."

"It's far from simple if it means the desolation of your ego." She shoots back.

"Hmm, I wouldn't call it ego per say, more like a competitive streak."

"Whatever it is, I'll do the honor of putting it to rest."

"Hmm… We'll see about that now, won't we?"

 **. . . . .**

 **Hours later…**

Diana laughs loudly, as he lifts her with one arm around her waist and tries to keep her from winning. She's on the absolute verge when he begins to cheat, picking her up while allowing his free hand to move the joystick, trying desperately to sabotage her. His attention is split between the game and the princess squirming in his arm, eyes following Pac-Man's movements.

"This is far from fair!" She shouts, trying desperately to reach the controls. He simply angles her body farther from it.

"Sorry, princess, what was that?" He asks, his attention not deviating from the game in front of him. "I can't hear you over the sound of me kicking your ass, once more."

Groaning, Diana rolled her eyes. She thinks desperately of an escape, seeing as she only has three lives left on the screen to win. They've run out pounds and this is her final chance to win. She can't lose to him, not again. Looking him over, she continues to ponder. His grip on her is tight and unyielding, yet his focus remains solely on the game at hand. She has a minute or two before the game is officially over and squirming in his arm does absolutely nothing to aid her, only prompting him to tighten his grip. Then suddenly, a thought crosses her mind and she smiles before going limp. His grip on her adjusts and tightens ridiculously so and she can already sense the worry from him.

"Diana?" Immediately, his mind wonders. _Have I held her too hard? Did I overestimate her strength? Did I crush her lungs? No, no, no, no…_

His grip on her loosens significantly and she thinks for a minute she's about to fall, but he's there supporting her as if she was a feather, holding her with both hands she notices. She takes advantage of this distraction and reaches one hand for the controls while the other pulls her up. The worry in his brows immediately fades to a crease of one who's been duped. He's beginning to rise and then she sees her opportunity. Placing her hand on his chest, she pushes forward, sending him right through the door. Not bothering to dwell any further, she takes her stand, hands immediately flying to the controls. Using her knowledge and everything Clark taught her along with her tactical skills, she took her female Pac-Man and dominated. Mainly focusing on the roaming ghosts, she navigated her Pac-Man throughout the maze, looking occasionally to see if she missed any of those white dots.

"Nuh, uh, princess, that just wasn't fair." Came a voice from her right, followed by a groan.

Her focus didn't deter, "All's fair in love and war, Clark!"

"Hmm, is that so?" She heard along with some heavy footsteps and the crunch of glass. Just a handful of dots left…

In a flash, he was next to her, taking up his male Pac-Man, trying desperately to catch up with his warrior companion. Laughing, when his hip bumped into hers, she focused entirely on the last few white dots scattering the screen. Bent over his own screen, Clark tried desperately to get his Pac-Man to move faster. Time was winding down and Clark had few more dots than Diana. He muttered a curse, eliciting a smile on her end. Weaving throughout the maze and dodging all the colorful ghosts, Diana's smile grows wider by the second, as Clark's frown grows along with it and alas, he knows it's too late. He tries nonetheless but soon both screens light up with the bold words 'PLAYER 2 WINS!'. Clicking his tongue in his mouth, he runs a hand over his face.

"I win!" She shouts, mouth wide open in surprise and shock. He laughs and runs a hand through his hair, messing it up farther than it was before and watches on as she celebrates, jumping up and down triumphantly with her mouth twisted in victorious smile. Her fist pump furiously in the air at her winnings and he laughs more at her antics. He steels himself against the back of the chair she once occupied, hands gripping the back as she turns to face him.

"Really?" He chuckles, emphasizing the sarcastic tone he takes up with her. "I can't tell."

She does a little twirl and he's momentarily dazzled by the spectacle, the way her dress flows and twirls along with her. It rises steadily around her, enunciating her toned legs that seem to travel farther and farther the longer he stares at it. "Shall I shout it louder, then?" She asks, approaching him.

"No, thank you," He shakes his head and sighs, adjusting his stance. "There's this thing called super hearing… I don't know if you've heard…"

"Oh, shut it," She said, playfully shoving him in the shoulder and settles to stand in front of him, pointedly ignoring the cool breeze that drifts from the now open door way. "You're just mad that I've bested you at your own game."

Breathing in, he says with a bout of mock sadness, "… Two out of three?"

Laughing, she shakes her head, and looks down at her phone. Nearly midnight, she curses. Three texts from Donna and nothing from Steve. Guess that conversation they had earlier settled things for the night. Peaking quickly at what Donna sent her, she sees a picture of a man with barely a cloth covering him and she's instantly regretting giving Donna a phone when she reads the caption 'DOES HE LOOK LIKE THIS?'. Her cheeks flame quickly and she fights valiantly to not look up at the man in question. She knew damn well not to tell Donna about Clark, yet her sister was very tenacious. Moving on, she notices a group text from Oliver and Bruce, reminding her of the brunch. Another text from Barry, asking her to restock the fridge at 'home'. Not really wanting to read over the rest she reminds herself to text back her assistant and deal with the countless number of emails in the morning, preferably after she's gotten the scent of Clark Kent out of her clothing. "I would love a rematch but I'm afraid the time has escaped me… I must be getting home…"

He nods, solemnly, his smile wavers before disappearing completely. She's surprisingly disappointed when his eyes don't meet her own. "Of course, Ambassador. I understand completely."

"Thank you, so much for tonight. Really. I enjoyed it very much so, Clark," She says, moving around him to gather her things. He doesn't move, just plays with the hem of his shirt. "It's been a while since I've had that much fun. It was nice to relax but unfortunately I must be returning to the real world."

"I enjoyed it, as well…" It comes out a mutter.

Preparing herself to leave, she begins to move towards the alley way door, "Tell Mr. Li that I'm sorry about the door and I'll make sure to pay for it… And to thank him for the hospitality."

She hears his scoff but he still doesn't move to look at her, at that her smile wavers. Laying her hand on the handle, she waits a bit, hoping, that he'll turn around and give her one of those charming smiles. Alas, much to her disappointment, he doesn't. His head remains down and his shoulders slouched and she can see the muscles in his arms twitch as he continues to fiddle with the hem of his Wonder Woman shirt.

"Well," She starts out, tucking her things under her arm and adjusting the lasso around her thigh before glancing at him once more. "I guess… I'll see you around, Mr. Kent." Opening the door, she doesn't get one foot out before her arm is grabbed and she's hiked against the door. Diana begins to pull her fist back, her sword and shield beginning to materialize before her arms are pinned on either side of her head and a pair of lips find her own.

 **. . . . .**

 **I know, I know… I'm a terrible person. But writers block was choking the shit out of me but I managed to subdue it. Called the cops, put it's ass in jail. Hope it won't be back for a while.**

 **Moving on, I wasn't planning on allowing them to kiss this soon but I was high with power and it took me over. Anyway, I hope it was worth it because they won't encounter for a while after this. Hopefully I'll produce the next chapter quicker than this one. I'm sorry for any mistakes. Reviews are loved and criticism improves me so, go at it. See you next chapter.**


	5. V

**V**

 **. . . . .**

 _She's talking but he just can't bring himself to focus. Sitting there, all he could think about was the fact that he didn't want this to be the last time. He didn't want this to be 'Goodbye'. He's grown too fond of her. Damn it, he curses, Arthur warned him about it, whatever affection he had growing for her. Why must it be her, he wonders, fingers playing with the hem of his shirt. As if he has discovered something interesting there. Why, out of all the women in the world, in the galaxy, must he grow fond of the woman he can't have? The Princess of Themyscira, he reminds himself bitterly. Groaning, he shakes his head, raking one hand through his wild hair while the other remains where it is. He's not supposed to feel this way towards her. This… infatuation. This wasn't supposed to happen. He hadn't signed up for this. It was supposed to be a simple thank you for her secrecy, not one of the best nights of his life. Don't look at her; he tells himself, hoping it'll make the goodbye, the separation, easier but as he tilts his head in just the slightest to say goodbye himself, he sees it: the despondency in her eyes and the sadness her stance carries, the hesitation to leave. An uncertainty he never wants to see on her pretty face again._

 _Screw it._

 _Like a man possessed he launches off the table, and he's behind her. Has her facing him within the next second flat. Knowing her, he grabs her hands, hoping to calm her and allow her to recognize that he's not attacking before he plants his lips over hers. She makes a sound of surprise in the back of her throat that he can feel in his. Her lips are incredibly soft and plump, like magical pillows. It had to be magic because that was the only thing that could take him to a near intoxicated state. To rhapsody. He had tasted the forbidden fruit and he never wanted to go back. She was absolutely divine, he was sure of it. The way her lips moved against his was something of an entirely different world. And it was the fact that her lips were moving against his that he almost fell to his knees. It wasn't human!. He lets go of her arms, reaching for the underside of her jaw, with the motion he tilts her head up for easier access to her lips. He pours everything he can into the kiss, every word he can't say, every ounce of emotion he can feel but cannot portray. Her hands lie on his chest, neither pushing or pulling, but her lips give. They give and give and give, pliant under his own. Diana gasps when his tongue swipes against her lips, successfully parting them and allowing his tongue to find her own. She makes this high pitched noise in the back of her throat that sounds suspiciously like a whine that sends electricity straight through his spine. Eggs him on. It's the hunger that damn near drives him mad. With every swipe of her tongue, he grows dangerously more addicted. He shouldn't love this as much as he does but damn, she tastes absolutely divine. Yet, it ends too soon. She tears away from him and his lips which slide against the smooth skin of her cheek. She tries to gather herself. She shouldn't be doing this, shouldn't be giving into this temptation, this lust. Yet, her mind can't function, it's spinning head on to a road that she does not understand; while her heart is racing. It's making her dizzy and allowing her to do crazy things it seems. He doesn't help of course. He's panting heavily against her, his breaths coming out in cool puffs against her jaw and it cools the heat that rises there when she notices how close their bodies are. How the rise of his chest meets her own. And all of a sudden she's painfully aware, aware of what stands before her. The brawniness of his shoulders, the curve of muscle, sinewy, hands calloused from hours of working in fields where the sun bears down on his sun-kissed skin. His skin is smooth nonetheless, soft to the touch, yet although abundantly hairy. She wonders if for disguise or if he's too lazy to shave. From the way he feels against her, she highly doubts it's the latter. By the gods, she curses, noticing the way he has yet to move from her. His body already beginning to grow familiar with her own. She hates the way heat courses through her._

 _He kisses her cheek._

 _"No, no…" She shakes her head and she's glad he knows when to back up. "I can't. You know I can't."_

 _His laden eyes try to find hers but her eyes run away from his, meeting everything in the room but him. He tries to ignore the stab in his heart and reaches for her hand. She flinches back, tucking her hand behind her back. He turns away, hoping she doesn't see the look of utter pain on his face. It takes a brief moment for him to school his features into something similar to indifference._

 _"I just…" He clears his throat and his eyes scour the emotions playing on her face. Anger. Desire. Curiosity. Hurt. His brows furrow. What an odd mix of emotions. "I just needed to know...Whether you felt the same. Whether I should pursue this or not. Whether I'm reading too much into the way you touch me, the way you look at me, the way your heart responds to my own..."_

 _Her eyes finally snap to his and he meets her head on, determined not to bow down before her. Those eyes, he is cursed. So wickedly spellbound. Her hands which had disappeared from his sight only moments ago appear only to grab him. His brows furrow and he fails to see the pain and anger in her eyes. They clench in the fabric of his shirt, wrinkling the Wonder Woman insignia._

 _Right before shoving him through the wall._

 _He goes flailing through the red brick, right into the opposite building and he curses. His back burns with the impact and he tries to pry himself from the building all the while watching Diana exit through the door into the alley, so elegant. Always so elegant he notices, and then she is standing before him. He watches her in the fierce light, trying so desperately to dislodge himself from the wall he finds himself trapped in._

 _She approaches him slowly. A lioness stalking to her prey. He wonders if she will play with her food; before ripping into him._

 _"Why…?" He mutters, shaking his head from the pain._

 _"Clark… I can't-" Before she can continue, her JLA Communicator goes off, alerting her to an emergency in Beijing. His eyes narrow towards the infernal device and red takes over the blue in his irises._

 _"Don't." Diana practically growls, beginning to feel the literal heat of his gaze. She pockets her communicator and looks back up at him. "I told you… I can't. I have someone already, you know this, Clark. Maybe… In that different reality we created, the one where I don't possess any responsibilities and you're not hunted from whomever you're hiding from… Maybe then, we could have something more than what this is. Unfortunately, that is not reality, just a dream conjured in the night with a stranger, whom of which holds no self-control. We hold titles, Clark, and responsibilities we possess no control over." And with that, she takes off into the air._

 _He tries to dislodge himself from the rubble, yet it takes him far longer than he'd like, eliciting a growl of irritation before using the strength of his flight to get him free. He wants to go after her, chase her and explain and apologize. Fuck, he curses. 'Control', he can imagine Bruce saying with that shit eating quirk to his brow. Mr. Li comes bounding down the stairs, shouting rapidly in Chinese. "Wha- What the hell happen to my shop, Eh? Clark Kent! You American bastard! I knew this would happen, gigantic neanderthal."_

 _Clark sighs, staring up at the sky before casting his eyes down to his discarded jacket. "I'll fix it, Li."_

 _ **. . . . .**_

 _ **The Next Morning...**_

"Kal-El!"

He jerks awake, hands shooting to the side of his bed to steady himself as he looked for the origin of distress. Yet, all he sees is a pair of perfectly toned legs covered in green Atlantian armor marching angrily up the stairs. Willing his dreary eyes to travel farther up, he finally sees a trail of fierce red hair that cascades around a beautiful figure, whom of which is tightly wound in muscle and wields a golden trident. Groaning, he turns over, not needing to see the rest of her to know who it is. It takes her no less than a second to reach the top of the stairs before she's chastising him, fierce gaze trained on him as she crosses the threshold of his bedroom door to stop at his bedside. She tilts her head like that of an authoritarian and her blue eyes narrow dangerously. She looks like a Queen. A frustrated, pissed off Queen. He simply fluffs his olive green pillow before shoving his head back into it.

"Wake up. We have an hour before the boat leaves." Irritated, The Atlantian Ruler knocks her trident against the floor for emphasis, hoping to wake up the alien. To no avail, he just grunts, scratches the back of his head before burrowing deeper into his pillow, pulling the blanket up over his shoulders while doing so. Mera rolls her eyes.

"Five more minutes, ma." Clark groans, trying to turn away from her. Mera sighs, containing her irritation before grabbing the thin plaid green blanket that covers him. He puts up a mocking attempt at disagreeing with her actions, pulling the duvet lightly to cover his shoulders, yet leaving his large feet exposed.

"No… No! I'm naked." It comes out muddled and unconvincing. Mera huffs in exasperation, continuing to pull the rest of the cover off of him.

"Nothing I haven't seen before, unfortunately. Now, get up." Much to her relief, he is not naked. He wears a pair of maroon boxer briefs but that's all, other than the sweat he's drenched in and the heavy amount of hair that covers his chest and trails down past his navel. She doesn't wish to look farther, already having had seen him naked one too many times already.

"Don't you have fish to command or something other than bothering me?" He grunts, trying half-heartedly to tug the rough material of the blanket back on his body but raises an eyebrow when he sees the bottom end of the Queen's trident pinning it to the floor. Mera crouches to his eye level, making sure to hold his gaze as she says, "Get up and take a shower before I do it for you."

Immediately, he's bombarded with flashbacks of Mera tossing him back and forth in the lake beyond the farm back in Smallville. He remembers vividly the crocodile tail whippings and the impact of the water against his skin. He also remembers how sore he was the next morning. Without much more prompting, Clark picks himself up, hands fisting the sheets as he pushes himself off the bed. Mera smiles; satisfied before rising and crossing the small room in order to lounge comfortably in the brown suede chair that lie near the adjacent window. She sets her trident down, allowing it to lean against the side table which was littered with books haphazardly thrown on it. She runs her hands down the spine of one that reads 'The Great Gatsby' in gold intricate letters on the green leather binding of it. Intrigued, she picks it up and opens the book to a marked page where Clark must've stopped reading.

Clark on the other side of the room, shakes his sleep addled mind, willing it to wake along with the rest of him. He sits up in his bed, barefoot touching the cold rustic hardwood floors. His hand rises when an itch makes itself apparent at the base of his head before he runs it through the base of his scalp, grunting when he encounters a knot. Looking around the room, he unconsciously finds the window before immediately rising. He crosses the room, dipping past the low set coffee table filled with abandoned drinks, miscellaneous books, and dirty, grease stained rags. His hand reaches for a water bottle while his eyes remain focused on the window. Mera looks at him, as if he is a man possessed and he is somehow, driven by need and want. She regards him with an understanding tilt of her head when she sees the object of his utter attention before turning back towards the book. Clark almost trips on his own two feet to get to the window, drunkenly bounding across the floor with slow speed, almost floating. Finally, he reaches it, pulling the water bottle up to his lips as he drinks like a man dying of thirst, his gaze not deviating from the light. He tosses the bottle behind his back and it lands forgotten. He stands in front of the window, drawing the curtains back slowly.

The sunlight.

He groans as he feels his body begin to absorb it, refueling him with energy lost the previous night. Blue eyes dilate red before rounding out into its original blue, his muscles flex increasingly with the strength the sun gives him, nostrils flaring as he takes what feels like breaths of fresh air. His heart finds an even, strong yet steady pace. His legs flex with the urge to take flight and his lungs expand largely as he inhales, before closing in as he exhales, a mist of cool air puffing out from his nose.

Feeling far more better than he did earlier, he turns around, making his way to the bathroom. He sighs in content when he notices the blurred blue stained glass windows. It's not much, pretty small, if Clark had a say so. To his immediate right, there's a toilet and a sink that sits opposite from it with a cracked window sitting above it. A foot separates the tile of the shower from the wood. A walk in shower, he notices with a raised brow, but absolutely no door. It'll have to do. Turning the water on, he strips out of his boxer briefs before sliding in. Cold water hits him immediately.

Sighing, he leans his head against the sea blue tile underneath the shower head, allowing the water to run down the back of his head, through his hair and down his spine, only to pool at his feet before sliding towards the drain. He closes his eyes as the water begins to slide down his face and takes the time to listen for Martha. She's outdoors. His head flinches to the left at the sound of a man talking. He speaks weakly yet humorlessly and says something that Martha laughs at in return. It's weak and he hates it, the way the laugh comes out, almost strangled. He hears the sounds of footsteps and a woman asking if she's okay. A nurse, he assumes. Martha says no. Stubborn woman, he curses. Fortunately, he hears the sound of a glass being set on a table. Water. He listens until he hears the sound of her throat work as it downs the water slowly. Satisfied, he closes the connection off, just barely leaving it open, keeping that constant yet quiet sound in the back of his mind as she plays checkers with her oldest friend.

He shakes his head, grabbing the wash cloth that is folded neatly atop the shower head and the bar of soap that accompanies it. He begins to wash himself.

 _ **. . . . .**_

 _ **Meanwhile, in London, England…**_

Diana rises, a striking smile on her face as she holds out her hand. "Yes, Monsieur Ada, of course, it was a pleasure seeing you again. I'll make sure to have my assistant send those files to you, as soon as I can."

The Ambassador rose, a bright smile on his face as he takes Diana's hand, shaking it firmly. "Thank you, so much, Madame Prince. And please, do take your time. It'll be awhile my arrival back in Paris and I'd rather enjoy London in the meantime."

"I'm assuming from your late departure that you will be attending the charity ball, later in the week, Ambassador?"

"Of course… I wouldn't miss my opportunity to donate to the Haitian children." The French Ambassador smiled, grabbing for his hat on his way to the door. She followed behind until they reached the door. Turning around, he holds out his hand for her to shake with an ivy league styled beam. "But in the meanwhile, I bid you adieu, Madame Prince."

"And I to you, Monsieur Ada." They part with those words and she slowly closes the door after his departure, watching as Julia escorts him out. She breathes out a sigh of relief, allowing her shoulders to slump. Diana returns to her desk and plops directly down into the comfort that is her swivel chair, slipping her heels off in the process. She checks her email and is not startled in the slightest to see her inbox almost full. Some from DOMA. The Ambassador of Africa, of China, Turkey, Australia, the Philippines. An email from General Lane she quickly scrolls past. She finds a handful regarding the gala later this week. One from Amanda Waller. Not only that but text messages, a lot. A scarce few from Bruce, Oliver, Zatanna, some from Steve. Mainly reminders of small things. She needs to get this done, answer the majority of emails she has, call a few people and make sure the ball for later in the week is prepped. Not to mention the numerous text messages and that reminds her address some meetings she'll fail to attend and those she'll make. In other words, a lot to do.

Yet, she finds herself not doing any of that.

Diana presses a button underneath her desk and the entirety of her office begins to shift. "Julia, hold any visitors and all my calls for the time being." She receives a quiet affirmation no second later from the intercom. Courtesy of Bruce Wayne and his advanced technology, she was able to implement a high-tech office connected to the JL's Watchtower. Metal walls began to rise and the lights dimmed, beside her original monitor two more began to rise on each side of the original. On them, replacing her Themysciran symbol fades in the large, bold, letters, JLA. Behind her, the blinds close and metal panels slide in place over the detailed woodwork of her office walls. Far in front of her desk, three rows of panels rose from the floor. The first one revealed her sword, shield, and lasso, all propped up for visual display while a spare bow and arrows lay unceremoniously in the bottom drawer. In the next column, lies a spare uniform, presented beautifully with her bodice hoisted against the column and the skirt folded neatly beneath it. In the last column lie the few gadgets Bruce provided to every JL Member, a spare communicator, tracking devices, etc.

 _"Welcome, Princess Diana."_ The female voice of the Justice League AI greeted.

"Bruce did not go halfway when he set this up," Diana murmurs to herself as she logs into her JLA account. All three computers light up, scattering information across three sets of screens from previous investigations. Vandal Savage. Poison Ivy. Swamp Thing. Cheetah. Circe. Immediately the computer begins to update her on their whereabouts. No suspicious activity, it seems. Nonetheless, the computer shows the members of the JLA who are paired to each criminal. Unsurprisingly, she is not assigned to any of them. She thanks the gods that Bruce knows her schedule.

 _"How can I help you, today, Miss Prince?"_

"Can you pull up any and all information you can on the planet known as Krypton," Diana stated, back straight as she addressed the AI. It was still odd, the technology developed by man. She was still desperately trying to get used to it. Bruce was little to no help, always busy with his company or hunting down criminals in the night. Nowadays, she relied mainly on Victor and Barry to help her when they had the time, sometimes even Oliver if he was free. The Archer having far more free time than the Caped Crusader.

Immediately the computer began to pull information from the JLA Database. All three computers scattered the information, from inhabitants to the planet itself. Reports from the Lantern Archives and images flew across the monitors, organizing itself amongst the clutter, enhancing relevant images and highlighting important text. During the entirety of the process the AI spoke, _"Pulled from the Green Lanterns' Archives: The planet Krypton was born approximately six billion years ago in Sector 2813, Negus-12 star system. Krypton was a distant planet which orbited a red sun, Rao. It was home to a great civilization which boasted advanced science and technology. It was a planet populated by a race of super-strong, scientifically advanced humanoids who resemble homo sapiens in every outward appearance. Krypton's inhabitants were indistinguishable from humans, though far more advanced. Kryptonians had to use their advanced technology to survive. Over 100,000 years ago, Krypton had already developed scientific advancements far beyond those of present-day Earth, and within a few millennia had conquered disease, learned to delay the aging process, and perfected cloning; vast banks of non-sentient clones held multiple copies of each living Kryptonian so that replacement parts were always available in the case of injury. All Kryptonians were effectively immortal, and enjoyed an idyllic, sensual existence in an Arcadian paradise."_

Diana nodded, hand finding the mouse as she scrolled through the information given. She was curious now and far too deep to simply just leave now. Reading the reports, her eyes narrowed in concentration. "What's the status of the planet, present day?"

" _Deceased_." The AI responded immediately.

Scrolling some more, Diana asks, "It doesn't say anything of how the planet was destroyed…"

Contrary to the previous answer, this one takes a moment longer, leaving Diana to raise a brow. _"...Causes: Unknown."_

"What do you mean unknown?" At this Diana leans back in her chair, staring with a baffled expression at the ceiling, talking directly to the female AI.

 _"The Green Lantern Archives show no knowledge of how the planet died, just that it did, leaving no survivors."_

Diana's brow furrowed and a look of utter confusion listed itself on her features. It didn't make any sense, 'no survivors'. Unless Clark was lying which she highly doubted. He had no reason to and the vulnerability of their situation led to her believing him. There was something strange about it all, mysterious. She was obviously missing something but the Lanterns' Archives were limited, any new information she'd have to derive from the alien himself which she was not about to do. Anger couldn't begin to describe what she felt for that insufferable beast of a man. He was a brute, she reasoned. Living out their alone, in the damn near wild must've been what made him so savage. The way he handled her, with almost all the strength in the world yet gingerly, as if she was a piece of fine china. A bull, he would've been she's sure, yet but the gods had given him their blessing, encouraging her to aid him, to trust him, guide him. Trust him, she wondered. He almost devoured her. Yet, nonetheless, he poured his heart out to her, his wishes, his dreams, his home, his family, his human experiences, gave her the chance to see through his blue eyes. Cornflower blue; the rarest of shades. And when his tongue glided across her own, by the gods. He had startled her with the foreign sensation and made damn sure she remembered him. She can still remember it now, the way he tasted. Like mundane liquor, dim sum, and something else, something she's never encountered before, something she couldn't help but find herself addicted to. Her heart and head pull on her, tug at her, as if trying to tear her apart. Her mind stills upon the fact that he just up and kissed her, knowing she held the heart of another. It's angers her, the fact that he could enlist so many emotions and reactions from her, something she wishes Steve was capable of. That's why she threw him that thick layer of brick in hopes that it would deter him, that he would leave well enough alone so that she could continue her definition of an ordinary life and not add to it. Yet her heart craves some part of it. It almost yearns for every night to be like last night. Tearing her in two. Sighing, she rests her elbows on her desk and plants her head in her hands, beginning to massage her temple. The action triggers a memory, that of an alien, running his fingers through her hair and massaging her scalp. She stops immediately, damn near infuriated. Pushing her hair back from her face as she contemplates her next move. It'd be best to leave it, she decides. To not bother with it.

To not bother with him.

" _Excuse me, Miss Prince_ ," The AI begins, drawing her out of her thoughts, _"Your sister, Donna Troy, is requesting entrance."_

"Can you let her in?" Diana asks, still far too immersed to let up. She pulls images from the JLA Watchtower on the Kryptonian and compares him to the information given. He had the x-ray vision, the heat vision, strength, speed, durability. All she knew but it was falling in line with what she was reading. Why was there nothing about him in the supposedly all knowing Lantern Archives? Maybe J'onn knew something she wondered, he had mentioned travels to places in other galaxies. He may have visited this place, this ideal world and community known as Krypton.

"Gaea, who is this fine specimen?" Donna asks from behind her, startling Diana. Her sister laughs behind her, black hair cascading past her shoulders. "What do the people from the Patriarch's World say...? 'I've caught you red handed'." She smiles evil like, glancing between her immersed sibling and the blurry images of man floating in the air. "... Is this the man from last night?"

"What man from last night?" Diana asks, chin resting in her hand as she scrolled through more images and information.

Donna rolled her eyes, jutting out a hip before placing her hand on it, "The man you abandoned me for in order to spend the whole night with…"

Diana spared her sister a glance which was followed by a slight rise of her brow. "You abandoned me with a man that was already married."

"Couldn't slip that past you, could I," Donna comments dryly, eyes still on the screen, eyes glancing over every image and bit of information her sister didn't scroll past. Grainy images of sculpted figure either floating in the sky or a blur that flew through it. Her eyes narrow. _Kryptonian_. "But back onto the subject at hand… Is this the male specimen you're leaving Steven for? Cause if so, consider me impressed, dear sister."

Diana raises an eyebrow and turns to look at her sister fully, setting her fully with constricted eyes. "I'm not leaving Steve."

"Color me not surprised. You've been with that soldier for so long and you've gone absolutely nowhere." Donna states.

"We are going somewhere…" She beseeches in response as some sort of defense but it's weak and she knows it. Where were they going other than in the same circle they do every day? Save the world. Call him for the cleanup. He asks if she's okay. She tells him she's blessed by the gods. They go on numerous dates. Give a shy kiss. And then what?

The cycle continues.

"To the gutter, more like it," Donna mutters under her breath.

"Donna!"

"Diana, don't 'Donna' me. You shouldn't be content with what you have. Do. More. Ask for more, Diana." It comes out far more sincere than the rest of her argument and Diana knows this is the crux of the problem. Yet, it's twisted.

"It's not him, Donna… He has made it clear that he'd like to move forward. It's I that is not ready."

"It's been years, Diana, how are you not ready?" The patronizing tone leaves her then and leaves nothing but the sincerity of a sister.

"I guess I'm just nervous… I don't know what to expect, I suppose."

"You'll never know if you don't try, dear sister."

Before Diana can respond, Julia speaks through the intercom on the phone. "Colonel Trevor is here and is asking if he can come up, Miss Prince?"

"Uh…" She presses the contraption underneath her desk and watches as everything relating to her superhero life hides away, folding up and sliding down into the floorboards. The two monitors slide back down into whatever mysterious place they came from. Her blinds rise and rays of sunlight shine down into the room, lighting everything up. "Yes, he can come up…"

"I guess that's my cue, huh?" Donna asks wryly, a small smirk playing on her face, watching everything shift and move in slight fascination. Diana can't help but smile at her sisters face. She remembers the same exact look on her when Bruce showed her all of this.

By the time everything is back into place, Steve has arrived, uniform hat underneath his arm and a bright smile on his face. "Hey."

"Hi," She greeted, rising from her seat but he, surprisingly beats her to it, his long legs beating her in their quest to reach each other. Both of his hands have found her neck while his lips meet hers. Soft, never demanding but inviting all the same. Immediate flashbacks bombard her of a tall man with cerulean eyes, black mop of hair, a broader build, taller height, and a beard. She expects hunger and passion and something far more hairy but she feels incredibly guilty when she feels none of it. She pulls back and begins to chastise herself, wincing as she falls back in her seat. Steve is absolutely clueless, lost in whatever world her kiss has placed him in. He shakes himself free from the haze and follows her down, propping himself up against her desk and placing one last kiss on her forehead.

She can't believe it. Just minutes ago she was damning him, now she's here, imagining her boyfriend's kiss as his. Damn it all to Hades, she curses, and can imagine the god of Tartarus laughing at her right now in his luxurious home. Guilt begins to spread like much of the joy at his first arrival. By the Gods, that alien would be the death of her.

"Hi, Donna. Long time no see," Steve comments turning towards her sister in greeting. Diana shoots her a warning look. She rolls her eyes in response and turns towards the soldier. Diana knows her sister has made it clear in more than one aspect that she does not like Steve. Yet, she also doesn't despise him. No, Diana knows that her sister only despises the circle they've placed themselves into. In turn, Steve has found himself wary around her, nothing she looks forwards to when the two come together.

"Hello, Steve. How are you?" Donna asks, taken aback with the soldier gave her a tight hug, both arms securing around her in a friendly embrace.

"Great, Donna. How about yourself? You look great." Steve states, backing up to look at her, hands grasping her shoulders. Donna looks affronted, eyes wide and brows touching the tip of her hairline. Diana hides her amusement.

Donna raises a brow. "I'm fine. Thank you for asking."

Diana tilts her head. Maybe today is a new day.

Steve smiled something bright but it wavers when he asks, "Where's your mother?"

"She's not here yet. I came in early."

At this, Steve seems to deflate, posture slacking and hand coming up to his chest, as if steadying a racing heart. "Thank God."

Donna snorts and rolls her eyes, amusement apparent when she realizes why Steve was acting in such a peculiar way. "I knew there was something up."

"It's not that bad…" Diana says, mainly speaking to herself.

"Have you seen mother look at him before? It's not even a glare. It's practically a sentence to Tartarus."

"I think you guys overestimates her dislike."

"We'll see when she gets here but I'm telling you, Diana, she'd have me speared if it wasn't for you."

"I can attest to that." Donna comments, raising a slight hand.

Rolling her eyes, Diana levels a look at Donna. "Don't you have somewhere to be?"

"And where would that be?"

"Aren't you supposed to be meeting up with Phillippus to see to mother's arrival this week?"

"Gaea," Donna looks up at the clock hanging on the wall. "I'm going to be late, see you two later."

Diana smiles and hugs her sister goodbye, knowing for a fact Phillippus will not take Donna being late, lightly. Donna gives Steve an awkward pat on the shoulder which he reciprocates hesitantly and with insecurity. She only laughs when she sees the look on his face as she walks out the door. Steve sighs, propping himself on the corner of her desk and laying his hat beside him. Diana has taken her seat and is rummaging through the bottom drawer for her notepad.

"Krypton, huh?"

Her brows furrow and her attention shifts back to him only to see him hunched over her computer monitor, looking intently at the words on the screen.

"A planet filled with a humanoid type species that live under a red sun. A race of highly aggressive yet highly intellectual species far more developed than the homo-sapiens that inhabit Earth..." He read out loud and she cringed with every word he spoke. "Ha, should we be planning for an invasion or something?"

If only he knew. Diana fakes a laugh, raking a quick hand through her hair before moving to shut the computer down. "No… Just curiosity, had a couple of minutes to myself and decided I'd investigate seeing as the rest of the League was busy."

Could I be any worse, she asks herself with a slight grimace. She'd have to pay for all this deceit later, she supposes. After all this, she's still protecting him. Why? "So, what are you doing here? I thought you were still in Arizona with General Lane." She continues on, trying drastically to change the subject.

"Oh, yeah." Steve perks up noticeably and adjusts himself, Krypton totally forgotten. "Can't really give much details to the public but the General assigned me to a project to recruit a task force, fully legal of course."

"Wait, I thought the Senator dismissed the task force at the press conference."

"He did but afterwards, he and the General had a agreement that they'd form a sleeping task force. If this guy, whoever he is, decides to turn around one day out of sheer boredom, we'll be ready."

"And why are you here, in Europe and not in the States?"

"I'm supposed to be meeting up with Amanda Waller, you know her, right? Director of A.R.G.U.S.? I think you've met her before." He takes a breath and takes a look at his watch. Yes, indeed she has met this Amanda Waller. Plenty of times at DOMA meetings, mainly fighting and arguing against the woman for Meta-Human Rights. The woman was determined and a shark, playing to any lead to get where she needed to go. Sometimes Diana questioned her intentions whether they were for good or evil, Waller allowed the lines to blur. Diana shook her head. Of course, they'd need the most ruthless and strategized woman in the business to take down a man that possessed no absolute threat to the public. "13:30. I have about an hour before her plane arrives. We'll talk, discuss some things before we go to this secret location where she's placed the recruits."

Diana's eyes look up to meet his."...Why are you so excited about this?"

His face immediately falls. "I… I guess since I get to be a part of something bigger. It's just a sleeper force, Diana. It won't be activated until he becomes an active threat to the public, alright."

"And what about the League? Can they not be trusted to find him and protect the public?" Diana's brows furrow.

"Lane thought it best that matters be handled discreet and under the radar.."

"And you're just going to simply follow Lane's orders?"

"Hey," He grabs for her hands, cradling them in his his. "Hey, it's more than that. Lane doesn't want the public to panic if, and I say if, this does happen and whoever this guy is needs to be put down. You know for a fact, I wouldn't be doing all this for an innocent man. This man has the potential to harm and we just want to be prepared if he decides that he's bored one day of just fighting bad guys. He may turns these power on the innocents and until he does so we won't make any threat or work to harm him. Alright?"

Diana nods slowly, "Yeah… Yes, I'm sorry. There's just been so much happening lately and I've been slightly on edge. I have to prepare for my mother's arrival, I have to attend and set up meetings, I have to prepare for the ball this week and make sure everything is in order, and on top of that I barely got any sleep last night."

Steve pauses and his grip on her hands slacken in the slightest. "...Why's that?"

Diana pauses as well and tries her best to keep her muscles relaxed and her eyes innocent.

He continues to press forward. "Is it because of my phone call last night?"

She sends a tiny thank you to whichever god was watching out for her.

"No, no… There was an earthquake in California and Beijing that needed tending to. It did far more damage than predicted and we needed most members to help with the casualties and clean up."

"Oh, everything alright?" He squeezes her hands.

She smiles lightly. He should know the answer by now. "Minor casualties."

"At least it wasn't catastrophic."

"Yeah, I suppose so."

"So, um, after I'm done with Waller, can I come over? We could probably do something. Maybe go see a movie or the park, maybe."

"Yeah, that sounds great." She blinks and gives him a slight reassuring smile that she can't put much effort in. As long as there aren't Chinese restaurants in the middle of the night and game machines with a block of cheese chasing ghost through mazes or enticing strangers from foreign galaxies that posses the ability to see into the depths of your soul.

"Fantastic." He checks his watch and hops off the desk. "Alright. I gotta meet Waller in a couple of minutes." He kisses her lips briefly before kissing her forehead. "I'll see you later tonight, angel."

She watches him race out of her office and she slouches back against the leather of her chair.

"Bye."

 _ **. . . . . .**_

 _ **Miles Out From the Coast of Brazil, Righteous Oil Company - Rig Alpha...**_

"You know where I can find an, uh…" Clark shuffled through his jacket pocket, grasping for a sheet of paper Mera had provided him with earlier. He pulled it out, unfolded it, scanned the contents briefly before reading aloud the name he was looking for, "Uh, Mr. Joe Freeman?"

The man at the desk nodded, eyes never wavering from his computer, mouse clicking repeatedly on what Clark assumed was a busy screen. He didn't respond for a second, teeth working a nail on his thumb before responding in a brisk, impatient time, "Yeah, sign your name on that sign in sheet and head to the back, farthest room to the left."

Clark nodded, stuffing the paper back in his pocket before hastily reaching for the pen lying on the bland beige desk. He reached for the clipboard and quickly signed C. Kent lightly before heading towards the back. Hooking a left, he was greeted with a long narrow hallway. Two doors on the left and three on the right. Clark continued on forward, slow and hesitant. He contemplated just leaving, taking a quick flight over the Serengeti. Or maybe checking on the fortress. It had been a while, he thought. Yet as his hand held the paper in his hand, he thought of a certain red headed queen and his ma. Martha needed this. Wouldn't be for long, just long enough for the medical bills and the mortgage to keep the farm. He promised long ago to take care of her. He couldn't let her down now, not after all this. Approaching the farthest door on the left, he read the label: J. Freeman. He walked forwards, not stopping until he had a hand rested on the door knob. Knocking with his other hand, he opened the door. There, at a desk in the center of the room sat a man. He lay chilled, undisturbed, feet kicked up on the desk with a book in his hands, glasses hung low on his long snout of a nose. Clark immediately notices, grey hairs peppering his nicely trimmed and slicked back hair. So his a pensioner. Respiratory problems as well by the way his lungs were moving.

"Uh, are you Joe Freeman?"

Glancing up from his book, the man, Joe looks him over, and he takes his time by the looks of things placing his glasses and novella on the desk. Joe folds his arms over his chest and eyes Clark warily. "I'll be damned if I was anyone else… How can I help you, caveman?"

Clark raises a brow at the nickname but pushes through. He needs this job and there's a high chance he won't get it if he starts talking smart, as his ma would say. "Looking for a job, heard you were hiring."

"By the looks of it, you don't have a resume." Joe states, nodding towards Clark's empty hands.

"No, I don't." Clark shrugs, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets, eyes remaining level with those of Joe. "I have some people in Kansas that'll vouch for me."

Joe huffs, taking his feet off the table before resting his elbows on the desk. He considers Clark for a moment, analyzing the man standing before him. "You got a name, caveman?"

"Clark… Clark Kent."

"You got any experience in this type of work, Mr… Kent?"

Clark shrugs again, reaching up to scratch the scruff under his neck before placing it back in his jacket pocket. "I'm good with anything that has an engine and I learn pretty quickly…"

"How bad do you need this job, caveman?"

Back to the nickname, "Might be the only thing that keeps the roof over my family's head. How bad would you call that?"

"Look, I'm going to shoot straight with you. You have absolutely no qualifications for this course, it's going to be difficult to find a position suited for you. I also don't want to just give out jobs to just anyone or the higher ups are going to start questioning my judgement, understand, caveman? So you got a week to prove that I need you on this rig."

Clark nodded, almost taken aback. "Yeah… Yeah, I can do that."

"Good. You start tomorrow, early morning, caveman."

"Thank you, Mr. Freeman."

"Cut that shit out. Call me Joe."

 _ **. . . . .**_

 _ **Gotham City, Wayne Manor…**_

"Any thing I can get you, sir?"

"Call Kent. Tell him we need to talk, tonight. Also, I need an email sent from Wayne Industries to LexCorp as soon as possible. Requesting for a meeting," Bruce answered back in extreme concentration. Alfred watched him, grey brows furrowed, and his hands behind his back.

"...I meant edible, Master Wayne," Sighed Alfred.

Bruce grunted in response, not once rising from his position over his workbench. His welding tool sending off occasional sparks that reflected in his goggles that were no doubt glued to his face from sweat. Alfred watched from afar, the only thing visible to him of course being the spasm of muscle when he moved his arms. He shook his head, tutting while doing so. "No, just those will do fine, Alfred."

"Tea and sandwiches it is then, sir." The butler nodded, making his way towards the elevator shaft.

The sound of more welding is his response.

"And may I ask why we are emailing LexCorp?"

"Kryptonite, Alfred. They have an abundance of it and if I'm going to solve this Zod issue, I'm going to need far more than I have."

"I think we have plenty, Master Bruce." Alfred motioned to pile sitting further back in the caverns of the batcave.

"There's never enough, Alfred."

"I believe that may be the attitude developed in your line of work, sir."

Before Bruce could respond, his JLA communicator went off.

"Calling all JLA Members. Massive riot breakouts in Pune, India, Nanjing, China, Galway, Ireland, and Adelaide, Australia."

Jumping out of his seat, he grabs his communicator. The team can't handle those amount of riots one at a time. "Break up in teams of two. Flash, Cyborg you handle India. Wonder Woman, Zatanna, China. Green Arrow, Martian Manhunter, Australia. Green Lantern and I will fly to Ireland. Black Canary, I need you at the Watchtower. Update us on all the latest and find out is there a constant between these occuring riots."

He didn't wait on affirmations, immediately sending out the order before pressing a button on the Computer's desk. He watched as his suit rose from a space in the floor and began to put on his full battle regalia.

"Computer, power up the plane."

 _ **. . . . .**_

 _ **Pune, India…**_

"Flash, I don't think that's what Batman meant when said 'get the situation under control'."

"What am I supposed to do, Borg?" Flash asked, dodging the flying punches of a crazed woman. He cringed inwardly when she started screaming at him, a screech that had his ears ringing. "They're civilians. And besides… She's a woman. I can't hit a lady..."

He whispered the last part as he avoided another punch.

"Just keep them distracted while I try to create a sedative," Cyborg responded from the base of the JLA Jet. "And make sure they don't hurt each other."

Flash cringed when he saw the same woman from earlier backhand a man in his late fifties.

"You're asking a lot of me, only thing I can do is move fast."

"It's not about abilities, Flash." Cyborg commented, typing furiously into the computer, creating formulas and mixing multi-colored liquids. "You're smart, use that to your advantage."

"Alright, you want smart… I'll give it to you."

He smiled as he gazed at the long gate.

 _ **. . . . .**_

 _ **Adelaide, Australia**_

"It seems these humans have been seduced into the urge of utter rage and destruction." Martian Manhunter commented calmly, gliding slowly to the ground as he dodged multiple attempts of affliction on him.

"Yeah, that leaves us to wonder what caused all of this." Green Arrow stated from the roof of a motel. He takes a moment to aim, close to a second before firing. Leg shots and sleeping darts to subdue the bloodthirsty civilians. Manhunter floats above them. His cloak billows around him.

"I cannot look into their minds. All I can see is… rage."

"Well, that presents a problem doesn't it?" Green Arrow pulls back an arrow and fires rapidly in succession, moving onto a new target with each successful shot.

 _ **. . . . .**_

 _ **Nanjing, China**_

Wonder Woman deflects another hit from a man, dodging, before sweeping under his feet. "Zatanna!"

Out of nowhere, the magician appears before her right as she casts a spell that puts the angered male to sleep. Before he can drop to the ground, Diana hefts him up by the crook of his arm and setting him in a corner next to more unconscious Chinese citizens, all handcuffed. She makes to place another set of handcuffs on him when someone tackles her from the side, they get nowhere but she barely manages to dodge a swipe of a heavily sharpened knife with blood already coating it. Two people are on her, rage in their eyes. She whips out her lasso and raises her shield. "I wish no harm to come to you." She says it once in English and says it a second time in Chinese. They give no verbal response, only a snap of their jaws. The one with the knife lunges at her once more and Diana dodges, twirling around them before whipping her lasso at the armed woman's ankles. She pulls and looks the enraged woman dead in her eyes. She speaks hurriedly yet calmly in Chinese, "Come back to us, lost one. We are not your enemy."

The woman stills and the rage that once coursed through her settles out evenly and slowly begins to abate. Consciousness begins to come back to her slowly. And at that she's horrified at what she wakes up to. People all around her, fighting to the absolute death. It takes her a moment to realize she's holding the knife before dropping it, horrified. She begins to speak rapidly in Chinese, crying out for her help, to understand what is going on.

Diana doesn't respond. She looks up towards her second assailant who sets his sights on the newly awoken civilian.

Without hesitance, Diana grabs the woman, ignoring her screams, she shoves the woman into an abandoned vehicle before breaking the handle.

"Zatanna, League, I've somehow managed to snap someone out of this rage induced behavior with my lasso." Diana says, whipping her lasso around the man charging towards her. She catches him across his chest. "Come back to the sane, the waking, dear one."

She watches as his eyes return to his previous state.

"How?" Zatanna asks from above her, eyes glowing white with tamed power. "I've tried multiple times but I cannot manage the same."

 _ **. . . . .**_

 _ **Galway, Ireland...**_

 _"It's not a drug or a disease."_ Black Canary's voice crackled through their coms. _"Based off the DNA samples Cyborg sent to the tower, their blood tissues are free and clear."_

"So you're saying their mental?" Green Lantern asked, producing separate cages for individuals.

" _Magic_ ," Zatanna says. " _Ancient_."

 _"Circe, then?"_ Wonder Woman grunted over her com. _"This seems like something she'd do out of sheer boredom."_

"Whatever it is must be based then off the magic Diana's lasso requires." Comments Batman.

 _"So mythological…"_ Zatanna ponders. _"Wonder Woman, your gods…"_

 _"Only god it could be is Ares but he's in Tartarus."_ She responds.

"Seeing as this thing isn't contagious, I want all of you to round up the angered civilians and sedate them. Wonder Woman, how many can you wake at once?"

 _"Ten to fifteen at most…"_

Batman sighed as another civilian launched themselves at him. "Then you better make it quick…"

 **. . . . .**

 **Pune, India...**

"No, do take your time." Flash smiled, as he glanced at the raging citizens of India struggling in the gate, their wrists entangled in the net of the webbing, no longer harming each other or themselves.

"Not all of us are as fast as the Flash." Green Lantern grunted.

"I'm glad you're finally recognizing my talent, Hal." The Flash responded, smug smile on his face, while running victory laps around the JLA jet.

 _ **. . . . .**_

 _ **Later that day, JLA Watchtower…**_

"I want a full rundown, stat." Says Bruce, collapsing in the chair at the head of the JLA table. He curses when he jostles his injuries in the action. Alfred can see to them later, at the moment, he doesn't have the time. He's in a rush to see if Clark made it to the cave and wastes no time getting to the point. Of course, that means ignoring the looks he receives from the majority of the League members who are curious to his current impatience. He stares back with obvious indifference with that slight bit of irritation that he usually holds in every one of his conversations without his mask off, when he's not Bruce Wayne. "... Well? I'm waiting."

Dinah rolls her eyes, "Ignoring him… We were able to return those still alive back to their normal selves. Of course, there were some casualties, although minor. Fifty in the hospital, fifteen dead. Toxicology reports that there was nothing in their bloodstreams, so no drugs. I found no common diseases or viruses. Most of the victims had no history of mental illnesses or disorders. Leaving none other than magic as our best bet…"

"I could sense it on them…" Pitched in Zatanna from farther down the table, fiddling with her newly manicured nails. "It was old, ancient, been around for ages kind of magic, deep rooted."

"That would cross out Circe from our list wouldn't it?" Asked Hal, Green Lantern suit gone and replaced with a sweatshirt and pants along with a blue sling across his right shoulder and holding up his left arm. Bruce wonders for while before instantly remembering when the man was tackled by a group of people, all of different sizes jumping at him from different angles. It took him and a great burst of tamed power to get the raging civilians off him but one had the strength and anger to literally beat his shoulder out of his socket.

"Not necessarily," Oliver responded, lying his bow and quiver on the table. "We don't know what she's been doing for the past year and maybes she's found some ancient evil to resurrect and do her bidding."

Diana cleared her throat before sitting up in her chair, "Highly unlikely. We all know Cirque has a romance towards drama and flair and if she were to make a debut, she'd have made a spectacle of it, herself included."

"What about your gods, Diana?" Asked Cyborg. "Ares, the one you had trouble with. Does he posses this power?"

"Um, yes but he's in Tartarus, serving a sentence. I doubt that he'd do this just for the fun of it. Ares is all about purpose."

"And what if someone gave him a purpose? What then?"

"Then it would be far more serious than we'd expected."

"Main two suspects, Ares and Circe. Yes, we already know. There haven't been any new players as of late. Especially since the attack on the Injustice League. Criminals have been increasingly quiet. Anything else?" Bruce pitched in. Barry raised his hand. "No? Alright, Diana can you check with your people to see if Ares is still locked up. Zatanna, you, Flash, Green Arrow, Dinah, and Cyborg, see if you can find Circe and see what she's been up to lately."

"Ah, hold on there a minute, big man," Dinah interrupts, raising a perfectly sculpted brow. "There is one more lead we'll need to follow up on."

He tilted his head. She was trying his patience, it seemed. Purposefully. Ignoring the smirk on both Oliver and Hal's faces, Bruce asked, "And what is that?"

"The fact that this woman-" A blurry image of a woman in latex running around appears all around them. "-was spotted around all the sites of the 'outbreak'."

Bruce pales.

"Hey, I know her!" Hal shouts, raising his arms in recognition therefore jostling his injuries. "Ow, that's the sexy burglar in Gotham city. Don't they call her-"

"Catwoman." Diana chimes in, turning towards Bruce with a raised eyebrow and pursed lips. "I believe you're familiar with this woman, are you not?"

Bruce does not slink back under her gaze but holds it with his own; filled with stubborn indifference that he hopes will throws her off his trail. "Yes, I've run into her once or twice. She does burglaries for people with money, so she might be connected-"

"Might?" Dinah interrupts once more. Yet, he prevails, calmly.

"Might be connected. I'll check it out." With that, Bruce rose from his seat, grabbing his cowl in the process. He didn't spare a glance at the League as he moved towards the exit.

"Hey, Bats, where are you going in such a hurry?"

"Got a meeting at Wayne Enterprises with some important people, you know."

"No, we don't know, Bruce. Why don't you come back over and tell us?"

"Maybe another time."

 _ **. . . . .**_

 _ **Elsewhere in Maragogi, Brazil...**_

"How'd it go?" Mera asks as soon as he arrives back at the bar. He waits a moment, stares at her with nothing she can decipher. He shucks off his coat, lets the water from the rain and humidity paint the floor before he hangs it up by the door. His fringe is far more prominent when wet so he shakes his head as well. Mera scoffs from across the bar. She's sitting at a booth by herself, a glass of strong scented rum sitting on the table in front of her fingers. Contrary to her earlier attire which consisted of Atlantian royal armor, she is wearing her usual edgy mundane clothes but looking around it wouldn't have mattered, seeing as the rest of the bar is empty save for the bartender. Will. Whom of which Clark earlier learned was a citizen of Atlantis which would explain why he'd never needed the bed he had upstairs. William Schaffs. He sat behind the bar, tumbler and towel in his hands with a cigarette dangling between his lips, eyes focused on the TV. It's a TV show, one he's never heard of, not that he watches TV often. Clark nods at him as he passes by, folding up the sleeves of his button while he moves. Will nods at him in return, sparing a small smile before turning back to the show.

Clark sniffed. "Will, usual, if you don't mind." He keeps his stride in play before throwing himself into the same booth as Mera. Not wanting to face Mera directly, he pushes himself up until his back meets the wall and his legs no longer hang off the edge of the brown leather seat. He catches Mera's frustrated gaze as he runs a hand through his hair and leans his head back against the wall. Sighing, he unbuttons the two top buttons of his shirt before remembering her earlier question. "It went fine."

Mera's brow quirked. Tonguing her cheek and rapping her nails against the table in frustration, she fights on with a tight smile. "Want to elaborate?"

He sighs, scoffs and runs a hand through his hair. "He'll give me a chance." Clark grunts, closing his eyes and laying his head against the brick behind him. He senses when Will approaches, peaks one eye open to acknowledge the bartender, nodding at the drink in his hand. Murmuring a quick thank you, Clark grabs the glass. Will walks off, a towel that hangs from his back pocket swaying with the movement. He looks at the glass with narrowed eyes before snatching it up quickly. The amber liquid inside swishes dangerously over the edge. He breathes in deeply, feels mentally for his lungs and exhales slowly. Watching as the glass begins to freeze, including the liquid inside. The ice, spreads from the area of contact and grows slowly, spreading to the entirety of the cup.

He smiles slightly, out of all the gifts, that one will never get old.

Mera, seeing Clark's difficulty to focus on her, leans forward, elbows lying on the table. She looks for his eyes, which is increasingly hard to find when he tries to dodge her attempts. Not having the patience for any of his brooding games, she grabs him by the beard and focuses him. Not until she sees the blue of his eyes does she ask, "Who is it and what did she did do?"

Clark's ears pique, moving noticeably beneath his full head of hair. But his eyes, she notices, contract. His shoulders sag and his gaze, which she fought so hard for earlier, tries valiantly to look at everyone else but her. No, he focuses on the glass in his hands, his fingers trailing lightly along the condensation forming against the glass, making large lines that wept as his fingers went along. "What?" He asks, his voice is hoarse and straining as if fighting against something great that resides deep in the caverns of his heart.

"Don't play dumb, Kal-El. It doesn't suit your features." Mera answers, allowing her fingers to pry from his hair as soon as she knows she has his attention. "For the past couple of days, you've been the happiest I've ever seen… in a long time. You were a lot less grumpy, far more compliant. And don't act like I didn't see those smiles on your face when you thought no one was looking. Your eyes… they were the brightest I had ever seen. Now… you're far more grumpy, easily angered, defensive. Your shoulders sag, you brood far more often that you usually did, your head is always down and you just seem to have lost interest in everything… Only a woman can cause that kind of mood swing."

Clark sighs, scratches the edge of his beard and looks back at the glass that lay in his hands, now melting back to it's earlier state only to leave a puddle underneath his hands. He curses underneath his breath and this close to him, she can see the sadness that hides behind the disinterest he portrays. Mera, smiling to herself, brings her hand up from across the table before turning it, palm up. Her finger twitches and the water begins to float. It rises in the air. He watches with big, wonderful eyes. Her fingers make a swirling motion and the water follows the motion in front of his face. It moves with every movement of her hand, every twitch, forming new shapes and following new paths. His eyes follow the movement much to her satisfaction. She allows it to circle around his head, twirl around the slope of his neck. He laughs suddenly when it tickle the underside of his chin and she smiles.

"No matter what may be wrong, Kal… No matter what may hurt you, I will always be there for you."

His eyes move from the water to her and finds sincerity in them.

"Not only that but whoever has harmed you, forget Arthur, I, will have the entirety of my Kingdom rain down hell upon those who choose to do so."

He waits a beat and wonders. This woman right here, in front of him, as good as his sister. She knows the power he holds, the planets he could easily conquer yet defends, looks out for him as if they were blood. Hell, as if they were from the same planet.

"What about an Amazon?" Clark mutters under his breath.

The water once floating around his head, falls. He winces when it hardens.

"Excuse me?" Her blue eyes, once bright turns dark and dangerous. The nails that once tapped with frustration on the table now stab into the palms of her hands as her fist clench. "Explain. Now."

 _ **. . . . .**_

 _ **Meanwhile, Location Unknown...**_

"What is this?" Steve asks from the backseat of the blacked out Humvee, roaming through the manila folders given. "Harleen Quinzel, George Harkness, Floyd Lawton, Lazarus Lane, Waylon Jones… These are all the people the Batman put away. How are they relevant to this assignment?"

"No, Colonel, Batman did not put them away… I did." Amanda Waller states across from him, one leg over the other. "He simply captured them. I did all the dirty work."

Steve shakes his head.

"And their relevance is greatly significant to you and the mission given, Colonel Trevor."

"How so?"

"Those are the members of your task force."

 _ **. . . . .**_

"You fucking idiot!"

Clark sighs.

"She could have you castrated… Dammit, Kal! Out of all the women in the world, you had to pick the one powerful enough to cut off your balls." Mera rages on, pacing back and forth in front of the booth, fist tightened in anger and frustration at her side, jerking every now and then. With every angered breath she took, he could hear the ocean's waves crashing harder against the boardwalk, almost roaring in his ears.

He watched as Will turned the OPEN sign to CLOSED.

"She's an Ambassador, Kal-El, almost a celebrity by the way her admirers see her. Not to mention that she's the Princess of the Themyscira, damn near Queen when Hippolyta retires. She is known world-wide, making fashion statements, saving lives, decreasing poverty rates, providing homes and shelters for those who don't possess one, strengthening alliances between countries and continents. And to match her status, she holds the heart of a man with power in his ranks, which continues to grow daily with his compounding accomplishments in the US Military. She has connections to literal Greek gods and goddesses. Rich. Beautiful. Powerful. Royalty. What could you give her, Kal, that she wouldn't already possess? You're from Kansas, barely struggling to make ends meet. You're on the run and have far more temperament issues than you let on… Why would you think you would have a chance with her? Why-?"

Her next words falter when she finds the booth shredded and the table broken in half, pieces flying in every which way. An alien stands before her, eyes glowing red with pure anger and sadness. Every word she said was like an infliction, far more painful than kryptonite or any magical blade. It hurt and his heart lurched with the pain. It wasn't the words, he had realized, but the truth behind them. Diana Prince was better than him, worth more than him, important. What difference would he make to her? What was so significant about him that he could make even the smallest of imprints in Diana's world? It hurts. It physically hurts. She wouldn't have separated him from an ant on the ground if he hadn't saved her and the Justice League. That's what it was. Fucking gratitude. She didn't care for him. Whatever happened last night, was a lie, all gratitude, indulging a crazed fan. She didn't see him the same way he saw her. The minute he thought that she actually cared… He had come out of hiding for her, risked his identity just to take her to a fucking Chinese restaurant, risked his whole fucking family. It hurts. It's as if her hand has a grasp on his heart and she's crushing. There was nothing there for her. He was nothing to her. Just another insignificant problem added to her list. An alien who wanted to play superhero.

His face screwed up in pain and he knew not to direct his anguish towards Mera. Taking a deep breath, he allowed his eyes to return to their original state but his posture did not relax. He nods slowly, trying to allow his heart to catch up with what his mind has decided.

"Yes, of course. What would I have to offer her?" He says blankly. "A princess..."

Mera's eyes widen significantly, the earlier storm having disappeared. "I'm sorr-"

"I got to go." Clark said, expression blank as a canvas.

"Wait, Kal…"

In the blink of an eye he was gone.

 _ **. . . . .**_

 _ **Kansas - The Pleasant Gardens Home of the Elderly…**_

"How is she?" He asks quietly.

"She's great, actually. No signs of Alzheimer's or arthritis. Of course, she has been taking it slow. Her legs aren't as strong as they used to be, we've decided to limit her to a wheelchair." The nurse beside him says, flipping through the papers that hang off the clipboard.

He pauses then, stiffening, but his eyes still remain on the sleeping form snoring softly in the dimly lit room. "Has she fallen?"

"Once, yes." His brows furrow, and he hits his head on the door casing, chastising himself. He curses, he should've been aware, should've known the exact moment of her distress. "But luckily one of the male nurses was around to catch her."

"Have there been any other problems?"

The nurse pauses for a long moment and he hears nothing but the hitch in her heart beat. He awaits an answer. She says nothing and he turns towards the small woman, frustration in his gaze when she doesn't respond. He stops. Her gaze is apologetic.

"Mr. Kent, I don't know if you're aware but your mother…" He knows the words before she finishes them. "She's dying."

Shaking his head, his eyes draw away from the human. "No. She's fine. She's alright, yeah, she may have a couple of problems but it doesn't mean… She's just depressed, that's all. Tired. Worrying."

How, a voice says deep within the caverns of his long broken heart, can you continue to lie to yourself?

The nurse frowns, looks between the man before her and the woman inside, sleeping. Slowly, she pulls her chart down and tries to gain Mr. Kent's attention best she can. Yet his gaze remains fixed on the rooms sleeping occupant. "I admire your hope, Mr. Kent. It's a quality most people lack nowadays but we cannot ignore the facts that lie in front of us… She refuses her morning meals and only eats late at night, she sleeps mostly during the afternoon, she doesn't use the bathroom as often, her back and leg pains continue to increase even with the pain medication we've given her, when she wakes up she's confused, asking for a man named John which we assumed was her husband… Mr. Kent these are all signs of-"

"Yes, I know, miss. I know what they are signs of." He says, a lot more bite to his words than he intended. "I hope this does not deter you and your staff in taking care of her."

"Of course, not. We're trying to do everything we can but even we cannot defy death. Yet we're trying our best to make it painless."

Clark looks down, digs the toe of his boot into the carpet of her room, jaw locked in a show of control and carefulness. "... Thank you, miss. I'm aware that you only have about an hour left until visitation is over, so if you don't mind, can you give me a minute with her?"

"Yes… Yes, of course." And with that, the nurse leaves.

Clark sighs loudly through his nose and runs a hand across the back of his neck, hand accidentally catching in some of the curls down there as he just stares into the dark room before him, dimly lit by a bedside lamp. Part of him doesn't want to go in but his legs move on their own accord. They take long strides into the darkened room, eyes scanning the entire space but lands on her. She's still asleep, still unaware of his presence. He moves towards the side of the bed, fingertips gliding over the bedside table but pauses when his hand encounters one bottle. He tilts his head and his eyes move from Martha's sleeping face towards the object in his hand. Pain medication. His brows furrow. Five hundred milligram tablets, to be taken three times a day. Pain? But the nurse said she was fine. Fine for a dying woman, something tells him and he cringes, tossing the pills back on the table before collapsing back into the chair behind him. He didn't know it was this bad. Didn't know she was this far gone. He wipes a hand across his mouth and grips his chin, eyes moving between the bottle and the woman lying in front of him.

"Ma…" He lets go of his jaw and leans forward, allowing his elbows to prop himself up on his knees. Sniffing, he continues, "I don't know what to do… I'm lost and I need you, like always, to help me find myself. Alright, I can't do this without you. Understand?" He wipes his nose on the cuff of his sleeve and scoffs. "The bank continues to pressure us into paying off the mortgage and you know for a fact that your patience and sincerity is the only thing that keeps me from leveling that building. And the medical bills are the same, Ma…" He sighs and shakes his head. "How you dealt with these people, I'll never understand. Greed is their maker and we are the victims of such religion, Pa once said… Now I know what he meant. Part of me wishes he were here, honestly, because he'd understand, he'd share this anger. Arthur… Is just as lost as I am but he doesn't show it. He's strong. Like you wanted us to be. I'm not. I'm weak, Ma. I'm so weak. Every single corner I turn there's something there, there's always something there to test my resolve, my control. And it just makes me so angry because it seems like the entirety of the world is against me no matter what I do, no matter the people I help. It seems so meaningless. And I'm beginning to question everything. Especially my thoughts and feelings… These feelings that seem to go against everything I try to do. For instance, Diana, mother…" He curses and swallows down the lump in his throat. "Diana Prince, the woman you're so fond of believing is my girlfriend, is one of the things that has me so conflicted. I thought that I… that we… had something, I suppose." He rolls his eyes at his own corniness. "A flare, perhaps, and maybe we do but still… She has someone else, a notorious soldier, famous for his success and resilience in the military, something Mera did not fail to enlighten me on. I love her and understand her hatred for the Amazons and protectiveness towards Arthur and I, but God, Ma, she just lets it get to her head sometimes. I'm not mad at her… Just hurt, kind of. Have I really gotten to the point where I'm considered useless now…?" His head falls. "And even if I did do something, or try for that matter, they'd hunt you. They'd hunt all of you… Bruce, Arthur, Mera, Alfred… And they'd make you suffer before doing the same to me…" Something is blurring his vision and with one hand he tries to wipe it away. The back of his hand comes away wet and is surprised to find it to be tears. He laughs, but it's broken. "I don't know what to do, Ma…"

Clark startles when a hand grasps at the sleeve of his jacket. He looks up to find his mother, wide-eyed and breathing heavily. "Your father, Clark. Talk to your father."

"Wh-What do you mean? What about him?" Clark stands, grasping at his mother's hand with gentle strength. "Why, ma? What does he have that I need?"

But his mother can't answer. She's too busy having a seizure.

"Nu-Nurse!" He shouts, unconsciously using his enhanced speed to find the woman from earlier. She's in another patients room when she hears his shouting and bounds out into the hallway, to find him disappearing from one end of the hallway to a foot in front of her in the second of a singular heartbeat. "My mother is having a seizure. She needs a doctor or something."

She cannot fathom words, mouth working but no words come out and it becomes worse when his eyes slowly fuse from a deep ocean blue to a blazing red. "Find the Doctor. And go to room 321."

The nurse nodded frantically but instead of moving, stood frozen on the spot.

His eyes seem to grow a darker shade before he growls, " _Run_."

The nurse takes off faster than he's ever seen a human capable of.

 _ **. . .**_

Both the doctor and the nurse finally arrive at Martha's room, an army of staff members following behind them. Clark doesn't look up from his position over her. "She just woke up and-and-and she couldn't bre-breathe-"

"Okay, sir, I'm going to need you to exit the room." Said a man, wrapped in a white clean robe and a stethoscope hanging from his neck.

"No, I can't. I need to be here for her," Clark argued and he saw the nurse flinch back.

"Sir, I need you to exit the room. I need to do my job and I can't have you getting in the way. I understand you're troubled but in order for me to save her, I need you to give me and my associates room to do our job and you're fairly larger than the normal male so please, exit. We have no more time to discuss this." The doctor spat out quickly, rounding the corner of the bed to stand next to it. He fished out his flashlight and efficiently checked her eyes.

The male nurses began to escort him out and the last thing Clark saw was his mother struggling to breathe.

 _ **. . .**_

He burst through the bathroom door, rubbing his hand roughly over his chin as if trying to console himself. Pacing the length of the bathroom, he tries to control himself, something Bruce had taught him. It worked in the slightest whenever he was triggered or agitated.

His foot crashed straight through the sink, effectively detaching it from the wall.

Today was not one of those days.

The way she grabbed at him, begging him to help her and he just sat there and stared at her in horror. Like a deer in headlights, frozen at the sight of near death.

He grabbed the broken sink from the floor with one hand and flung it directly at the large mirror.

And he couldn't do a damn thing. He pauses at the sight of him in the cracked mirror, eyes red-rimmed, hair tousled, and tears leaking out. What good is he, a man with powers people couldn't even begin to fathom, if he couldn't even save his own mother? She sat there, staring at him with those large brown eyes, begging him, pleading with him, to save her. She could barely move. Tears were leaking out of her eyes and one, weak and trembling hand, had grasped her throat as if clutching onto life, her breath coming out in small gasps. What if he hadn't been there to save her? Who would've known that his mother had been dying?

He collapses onto the floor, knees denting the blue tiles as his lungs begin to constrict.

She could've died.

Suddenly, vibrations catch him unaware from the depth of his jean pockets. He tilts his head for a beat and reaches into his pocket, then he pulls out a small black rectangular box and soon recognize it's the burner that Bruce had given to him and Arthur in case of emergencies. Hurriedly, he swipes the green button as Bruce had showed him, walking quickly but silently out of his mother's room and into the hallway. He pulls the thing up to his ear and growls into the phone, tears falling from his cheek into his beard viciously, "This is not the time, Wayne."

"This is not a conversation to be had wherever you are. Meet me at the Cave. It's important. Bring your brother and Mera."

"Go fuck yourself." His voice cannot possess anymore strength, it cracks and breaks and he hates it.

"This is not the time for this type of behavior, Clark. I need you here."

"And? A lot of people need me, Br-Bruce. Why is your need gr-greater than anyone else's?" He spits, struggling not to crush the phone in his bare hands.

"... You're portraying anger but the cracks in your voice and your struggle to gain breath tells me you're crying… It's Martha, isn't it?"

"Do n-n-not talk about h-her."

"Stop, Clark… You're going into a state of shock; therefore, inhibiting your breathing. You'll begin to hyperventilate. I need you to breathe for me, Clark, I want you to calm down. Do you understand?"

Clark nods but soon realizes Bruce can't see him. "Y-Ye-Yea-Yes."

"Say the words."

"I… I-I underst-understand."

"Breathe with me, you hear me? Follow my breaths."

"Y-yeah."

Bruce breathes in for five seconds. Clark's breath comes in, stuttering. Bruce exhales for six seconds. Clark does the same, far smoother than his inhale.

"You are alright, Clark. You are ok. Martha is still here. I am here. Your brother is here. Mera is here. They need you to be alright. They need you to be strong."

Clark breathes in.

"I need you to be strong."

Clark breathes out.

"Bruce."

 _"I am not here to hurt you." There's a man before him, clad in black body armor shaped up as a bat. He crouches in front of him, palms facing up and resting on the floor. A sign of peace. Clark is still wary. How is this strange man so calm when the building is falling down around them, he asks himself, eyeing the creature in front of him. Clark stares at him, clutching his knees to his chest underneath the table. Parts of him homes one of the low hanging beams will knockout the human in front of him so he can run and find Orin._

 _"Who are you?" Clark stutters, trembling steadily with fear. Is this another test, he wonders. They now dress humans up as ridiculous creatures to scare him? Yet, there's something about him, the man-bat in front of him, something inviting and safe. "Are you with the men who took me?"_

 _The man-bat's eyes soften and he adjusts his stance even as a large column falls no less than a foot away from him. A calm in the storm. "No. Never. I came here to stop those men. I came here to set you free, Clark."_

 _Clark just continues to stare at him, blue eyes widened in fear, shaking and trembling. The man-bat smiles sincerely. "You're smart to be wary… But you have nothing to fear from me. Your mother and father sent me, to save you from these people… Martha and Jonathan miss you, Clark. They want you to come home and I'll take you there. No harm will come to you. Not with me. The bad men are gone and they won't be coming back for a while."_

 _Clark shakes his head, burrowing deeper into the safety of his arms. "How can I trust you?"_

 _The man-bat rips off his mask, pulling it slowly over his head to reveal a handsome face with cool steel-blue eyes. "Look me in my eyes, Clark. My name is Bruce Wayne. If you can trust me with your secret, I can trust you with mine."_

 _"... I have other friends here, as well."_

 _"Can we find them together?" He holds out his hand. Clark eyes it warily. "Can we?"_

 _Clark's hand finds his._

" _Clark_?" Bruce voice pushes, dragging him out of the world he delved in. The memory is fresh, as if it happened yesterday, much like it feels. It's the day Bruce came to save him from his captivity. Of course, it wasn't that peaceful when he had arrived but in the end, they became far more than friends. Another brother, more like it, that wasn't freakishly strong and could speak to fish. No, just a rich, adopted brother no one wanted to talk to. He scoffs, smiling a bit when he realizes that it's Bruce. The dual personality prodigal son with enough money for him and his great grand kids. If he ever had any, of course. Which is highly unlikely but you never know with him. But yeah, Bruce is… Clark sighs, Bruce was there every time he needed the bastard. He cradled his head in his lap, sniffing. He listened for any indication that Martha would be alright. "She'll be alright, just please give her plenty of fluids and allow her rest. Decrease the amount of exercise given daily." Yes, sir. Anything else?" "Uh, no, that'll be all… Check up on her in the morning will you?" "Of course." Sighing out a breath of relief, he returns the phone to his ear as he rises to leave.

"Yeah… Yeah, I'm good. I'll be there as soon as I can."

 _ **. . . . . .**_

 _ **Elsewhere, Location Unknown…**_

"You need to be back at Tartarus. Miss Prince and her friends will be expecting you there… That is, of course, if you still wish to remain anonymous." Zod states, hands flying over the computer in his Kryptonian ship, paying no heed to the god behind him. He silently seethes behind, still getting over his work from earlier. Zod rolls his eyes when he feels the pervasive anger that radiates off the god of war. It tries to weasel it's way inside his mind, tries to corrupt him, anger him but he shrugs it off.

"If they find out I'm involved, she'll not only bring out those wretched Amazonian whores but also-"Ares says, pacing the length of the ship, his boots thudding heavily much to the Kryptonian's annoyance.

"Your brothers, sisters, uncles, and aunts. A family reunion we don't need to get in the way of our plans so it's best you start moving, isn't it." Zod states, analyzing data sent from his fleet.

"Don't forget, Zod, to get me out of there." Ares comments from behind him but Zod can feel the god's irritated gaze on him.

"As soon as they're done investigating you, I'll send Faora. Now, leave." Zod states, leaving no further room for conversation.

Without another word, Ares leaves, fuming. It's a brief moment of silence he savors greatly.

"Zod."

"Yes, Faora?"

"There have been… Sightings of a man matching the Kryptonian's description."

"Are you sure you're not mistaking one of my foot soldiers for that traitor?"

"Yes, Zod. Although, he has grown from our previous encounter, scanners have shown a male specimen with the same powers as Kal-El. He was seen flying above Bangkok, London, Paris, New York, and then Kansas." She pulls blurry images of him.

"I promised that boy, last time we saw each other, that if I ever saw him again I'd break him."

Zod eyes the picture on the screen.

"Time I made good on my promise, don't you think?"

 _ **. . . . .**_

 _ **Gotham, Wayne Manor…**_

"What are you up to, Selina Kyle?" He asks himself as he watches over multiple video recordings of her in different crime scenes. She's good, he has to admit. A pro. Hides in plain sight and plays the victim really well when she needs to. First rage outbreak was in Ireland where of course she had a drunken redhead slung around her arm yelling what he recognized to be crass words in Gaelic. She rolls her eyes when she faces away and he fights the sudden urge to laugh. Nonetheless, she continues on with him for a while before she proceeds to drag him in an alley. There, his eyes narrow, they stop. Miss Kyle has one leg trapped around the man but what Bruce soon realizes is that this man is patient zero, her leg has him trapped and a dark yet broad figure appears in the shadows. Bruce tries to zoom in but it's too dark for him to see. No facial features or distinctive ones. Mystery man flexes and the Irishman trapped in Miss Kyle's leg, thrashes wildly. She lets go and disappears in the shadows with her could be employer. Next, she's spotted in China, and he can't help the smirk that crosses his face when he sees the baby stroller. She's good. Surprisingly enough, there is a baby in it. He looks through all the other videos and in it she has some sort of mysterious companion. Australia, she's spotted with a new man, old and limping but the cane is authentic. In India she's spotted with a regal looking man, same cane, younger body. Immediately, he runs facial scans on all of her companions. Within the ten seconds the computer dings and Bruce looks for the results.

No matches.

So that left one option. Find the cat. And he'd find her employer.

"Master Wayne, your visitors have arrived. "Alfred announced from the Manor's entrance, arm swooped open to invite his three guests. Out of the darkness of the cave's entrance emerged three hooded figures, leading from small to large, Mera, of course, being at the forefront, long sinewy legs striding purposefully. Arthur walked behind her, somehow finding swagger in the brown leather sea captain's coat. And behind them, stood Clark, head hanging low and eyes downcast, hair spilling from the hood and into his face. He looked everywhere but at the people surrounding him, avoiding everyone's gaze.

"Clark, help me out real quick in the kitchen. Upstairs." Bruce said, rising from his seat and moving towards the elevator shaft that led to the parlor with no sparing glances towards the rest of the group. "Alfred, take a break and show Arthur and Mera to the projection table. We'll be back."

"Yes, Master Wayne," Bowed Alfred before turning towards the King and Queen of Atlantis. "If the lady and gentleman will follow me."

Mera took Alfred's offered arm. "Now, Alfred we've known each other far too long for that high horse nonsense."

"Of course, Lady Mera… And may I say, you are looking lovely today." Alfred said with a warm smile, patting the Queen's hand as he led the two towards Bruce's aforementioned destination.

"Such the charmer, Alfred. Kal-El, Orin, take some tips." Mera commented, pointing wildly behind her at both men. Arthur rolled his eyes and Clark scoffed.

"Charm did not get you in my bed, my Queen." Arthur said half-heartedly, following closely behind his wife and Alfred, ignoring the sway of the red head's hips. He looked around the cave, eyes catching occasionally on a device, labeled as WayneTech. "If I remember correctly, it was-"

"Say one more word, Orin, and you'll find nothing but empty sheets."

"Yes, Mister Curry, I must agree with the Lady. I do not require to know what the two of you young scoundrels do in your bed. I just happened to have had dinner and I would prefer not to lose it."

Mera tossed her head back in laughter and kissed the side of Alfred's cheek.

 _ **. . .**_

Bruce glided through the mansion, ducking under gilded archways and passing by delicately carved columns that supported his home. The statues and paintings that lined the corners and walls of the interior that were dimly lit by specifically placed lamps looked ominous yet dull all together. They have yet to lose their value but have already lost their master's appeal and attention. Clark watched Bruce closely as they closed around corners only to reveal a bigger, far more elegant space for more peaceful transgressions. The billionaire seemed to be avoiding every asset he had. Eyes kept dead ahead, never deterring from what was in front of him. It was odd. What kind of billionaire didn't admire his own valuable and priceless possessions, Clark wondered. The paintings, the statues, the antiques, and collectibles that stood high and proud seemed to worth nothing to him.

"So, make it quick. We don't have much time before your brother and sister grow suspicious." Bruce stated, curling around the corner of his bar.

"Mortgage, medical bills. Diana Prince hates me. And Ma won't last the month." Clark sighs. "Only good news is the fact that I got a job at an Oil Rig."

"I'll handle the mortgage and medical bills. Can't do nothing about the pissed off Amazon. And there's a new drug they've developed in China…"

"No, no, you don't understand, Bruce. First off, I told you, God, Rao, knows how many times, that I'm not taking your charity. Thanks but no. And as for Ma… It's serious this time. Her body is beginning to fail her. I-It-It can't support her anymore. It's only a matter of time before it completely gives up."

"So, what do you want to do, Kent?" Bruce asked, browsing the collection of bottles in the rack behind him. His fingertips ran over the caps, recalling the particular tastes the Atlantian Queen and King had when dealing with the spirits. The King on one hand, Bruce remembered, had very broad tastes. His fingers glided over the specific seal of a Captain Morgan. This would do for the King. "Hmm?"

"I don't know, that's part of the problem. I can't just sit there and watch her die."

"Then don't then, huh? Instead of just 'sitting there' why don't you be with her. If she's got a couple of weeks left, make them the best weeks of her life." Bruce said, tongue pushing against the side of his cheek as he tried to remember what Mera fancied. She, unlike her husband, was far pickier and particular. Smooth yet burning. He hummed and looked towards the white liquors and shook his head. Although particular, she's similar to her husband. Hine Vintage Cognac. Bruce grasped the bottle with nimble fingers. It'd have to do.

Clark rolled his eyes but sighed. "I got a job, Bruce. From morning to the afternoon. I'll barely have enough time."

"It's not just you, Clark. You have Mera and Arthur who are no doubt willing… And you have Alfred and I." The last part comes out softer than the rest and Clark tries to read the man but his back is still to him. He's paused his browsing and his hands are flexed at his sides and his head is bowed towards the ground. "Don't forget that, now. After all this time…"

"Never." He shakes his head in the slightest, brows furrowing. "I just thought that since you're busy both night and day and Arthur and Mera have a kingdom to rule-"

Bruce whips around, bottles forgotten, and leans forward on the bar in front of the alien. "Yes, Clark, we all have our obligations but that should never get in the way of the things we love and care for. Life is too short for that. Martha was there for every single one of us, including me."

Clark scoffs and runs a hand through his hair, hiding a smile. "She baked you so many pies the day you brought Arthur and I home. She continued to name a cow after you. She knitted you a sweater and didn't Pa offer to sell the farm?"

Bruce lent back, a smile blossoming across his face at the memory. "I actually still have that sweater and yeah, he did. He was about to give everything up as payment and Martha… Ha, Martha was perfectly fine with it… As long as she had her boys, she said she'd be completely and utterly fine with living under a bridge."

Clark's smile slowly dispersed and something serious overtook him. "If you go to see her, I don't want you mentioning anything. About the mortgage or the bank or the medical bills. I don't want you making her any promises about it either. I don't want her to worry about any of it… please."

"Yes… Of course, Clark."

"And, by the way… Let me tell, Arthur and Mera, alright? They'll be pissed if it comes from you."

"They'll probably be pissed either way, Clark, seeing as you waited so long."

 _ **. . .**_

 **This chapter here, is dedicated to Comeforth18, the best beta I could have possibly asked for, honestly. I just wanted to let all of you know, this chapter wasn't just me, it was her. She kept me on track and motivated. If it wasn't for her and reassurance and patience, I'd have this chapter posted next year. She gave me so many ideas and continues to do so beyond this chapter and helped me out so fucking much. She kept me in check and determined to finish this chapter no matter how many setbacks there were, she was there and supportive and kind and amazing and beyond the best beta. She's the best and I honestly owe this chapter to her and hope we have a prosperous journey through the rest of this story with far quicker uploads lol. All in all, thank you.**

 **One last thing before I go and this is to a specific reviewer that goes by the name, FanFicFan:**

 **Thank you for reading my story but please, if you feel as if my story needs to be repaired, story wise, then in all sincerity, you can fuck off. I know what I'm doing and what I intend to do with my story. And please, don't threaten me with following my story or not, cause I honestly couldn't care less. I got 213 people to look after other than you. Yes, I understood what you 'conveyed' and it honestly pissed me off if you're that ignorant. Of course, I'm going to tell my audience how and why General Lane and Lex Luthor kidnapped Clark and how he escaped. Of course, I'm going to explain how Bruce and Clark met. Of course, I have character development in store for Clark. That's part of the story and I honestly wouldn't be this mad if we were farther in the story but I've literally only posted five chapters. I'm sorry that you feel that way, really, I am, and I assure that all will be revealed eventually but I'm going to write my story as I see fit. And I'm not going to be rushed by you.**

 **See you all next chapter.**


	6. VI

_Saturday, 8:45 Am, Location Unknown..._

"First up, Harleen Francis Quinzel." A picture of a beautiful blonde femme fatale with glasses and blue eyes slides onto the screen. The psychiatrist, Steve remembered, the basket case beauty that had set Waller and the whole agency amok a couple of years ago. "Miss Quinzel possessed a genius-level IQ and attended Gotham State University on a scholarship for gymnastics, where she majored in Psychiatry under Dr. Odin Markus. She had a boyfriend named Guy Kopski who she soon drove insane along with herself along in the process. She killed the Doctor and her boyfriend killed a homeless man he thought was the Doctor. Turns out, what we found out later, that an experiment Mr. Kopski had been working on and testing himself called the 'Think Drink' had been corrupted with Joker Venom by the Doctor. In the end, he begged Miss Quinzel to kill him. It's a mystery as to whether or not she did. Feeling inspired by everything that happened and the results of Joker's Venom, Miss Quinzel applied for a job at Arkham Asylum where she met him…"

"The Joker…" Steve produced, watching as the image of the notorious green haired clown slid next to the one of the blonde. Steve was very well familiar with the criminal. He had shook the underbelly of Gotham, allowing the wealthy and politicians to fall through the cracks while the thieves and murderers and the like rose from it. The Clown had turned everyone and everything around. Unlike many criminals in Gotham, the Joker, was smart, calculating, manipulative, but also a pure genius. He had infiltrated the law enforcements, cut off access from outside cities, and managed to send the Batman into a frustration that scared the lesser evils.

"As soon as she was accepted by Dr. Arkham, she requested to meet the Joker. Based on the claim that she was doing research for a book on serial killers, she was given complete access to the Clown-Prince of Crime. In their first session together, she introduced herself as Dr. Harleen Quinzel, but he stressed that he would rather refer to her as Harley Quinn, like the medieval jester Harlequin. The pair shared an affair, with Quinn helping Joker escape from Arkham several times before she herself was finally caught. Her medical license was revoked and she was committed, despite her claims that all of the releases were meant to be… therapeutic."

"Wait, wait…" Steve interrupted, holding out a hand in the air to signal for a pause. "...didn't Batman kill the Joker?"

Waller's lips pursed and her arms crossed over her chest, her brown eyes gleamed meeting the soldier's head on in agitation. "That's what the Batman recounts… Thing is, though, is the fact that we could never find the body."

Steve nodded, slowly, head twisting in possibilities, wondering, hoping the clown that once haunted the streets of Gotham is not out there walking them now.

"Leaving that daunting thought where it is, next up, is George Harkness." Steve winces as an image of man, looking equally insane and missing one or two teeth, replaces the image of Harley Quinn and the Joker. "Though he likes to make up fake stories about his origin, the truth is, from an early age, George "Digger" Harkness taught himself how to carve and throw boomerangs extremely well, having known his absentee father was especially proficient with them. Harkness believed that, if he could become better with boomerangs, it would somehow impress his father if they were to ever meet again. When he was older, Harkness moved to Central City in the United States, determined to become a master thief with his boomerangs, and became the costume criminal "Captain Boomerang". However, his plan went awry when he was contested by the vigilante speedster the Flash, who constantly put Harkness behind bars. Harkness allied himself with the Flash's Rogues gallery, but, still, even their combined efforts were no match for the Flash."

The image faded and was replaced by a man with an eye patch.

"Floyd Lawton, aka Deadshot, grew up as a member of the idle rich. His father, George Lawton, made money in real estate, and his mother Genevieve Pitt belonged to a family of wealthy bankers. His brother Edward Lawton was a golden child, described as the opposite of Floyd. Both parents doted on Edward while treating Floyd poorly, but Floyd still grew up idolizing his older brother. George was unfaithful and cruel to Genevieve, so she asked her sons to kill their father. Eddie locked Floyd in the boathouse when Floyd tried to warn his father. Floyd broke out and grabbed his hunting rifle. Eddie had already shot their father in the second floor library, paralyzing George for life, and was preparing to kill him. Floyd climbed a tree and aimed to disarm his brother, but a branch snapped and he shot Eddie between the eyes. He killed the brother he loved to save the father he hated. This incident was covered up to avoid dishonoring the family name. George denied Genevieve a divorce, and forced her to live alone on a small stipend. Some time after that, Lawton sought the training of the professional assassin David Cain, who instructed Lawton and taught him his marksmanship abilities."

"That's actually…" Steve breathed out, reading over the description next to Lawton's profile. The tale of Lawton was disturbing within itself, the moral and compassionate side to Steve's heart went out to him. Lawton's drastic actions were that of basic human emotion. "Pretty tragic, really."

"Now, now, Colonel, are you sympathizing?" Waller chastises.

Steve throws her a slightly annoyed gaze, jaw working in irritation, her attempt to demean him not lost on him. With a controlled voice, he answered, "No, course not but still… I can understand now why he did what he did. This is a true motive for the type of hatred and anger Lawton has."

Steve wasn't going to pretend he didn't notice the way Waller looked down at him. Riding her high horse to kick at her inferiors and keep the treading around her like fucking beggars. It wasn't just anger that settled in him but a sort of respectful hate. If he was successful in this mission, Waller would see him moved up in the ranks along with the General. And if he did move up, he wouldn't have to put up with half the shit he did already. He could move to station in Europe with Diana, no more having to struggle with skyping or having her fly over. They could actually have a future, possibly.

Waller snorted, eyes moving from the soldier back to the screen, her nose scrunched up in slight as if in disgust. "Perhaps when you look at it from that perspective…"

Disgust, he realized, with the criminals she holds captured.

"Continuing on we have, Waylon Jones, aka Killer Croc… Waylon Jones was born in a slum in Tampa, Florida. He was born with a medical condition that caused him to grow progressively more like a crocodile, hence his name. His mother died in childbirth, and his father abandoned him. Waylon was raised by his aunt, but her persistent drinking prevented him from growing up in an ideal household. As a teenager, Croc had no friends, and was the object of ridicule of those who knew him. By the time he reached adulthood, Waylon found work wrestling alligators as part of sideshow carnivals, where he earned the name "Killer Croc". Croc soon realized that there was more money to be made in crime, so he set out to become Gotham's most powerful underground figure. His criminal activities made him a target of Gotham's vigilante Batman. Croc's rise to the top of Gotham's underworld didn't go unnoticed and he made quick enemies of already established criminals. Croc was soon approached by Joker, who arranged a plan for Croc to eliminate Batman, but the madman's plan would also involve a double-cross, where Croc would be eliminated as well. Joker's plan failed and in the last confrontation with Batman, Croc was defeated and his reign of terror was over. Some time later, Ra's al Ghul engineered a massive breakout of Arkham Asylum, freeing all of the patients, including Killer Croc. In exchange for their freedom, the prisoners agreed to help Ra's with a scheme to confound the Batman. Croc's role in the plan was to break into Wayne Manor and abduct Bruce Wayne's butler Alfred Pennyworth. Croc had no idea what connection Pennyworth had to Batman, but he executed the deed without question, and brought Alfred back to Poison Ivy's Exotica Emporium where four other hostages were being held. Batman soon arrived to rescue the hostages and fought with Croc once again. As time was of the essence, Batman wasted little of it fighting Croc, and quickly subdued him. Afterwards, Killer Croc was returned to Arkham Asylum. Like many do, Croc eventually escaped from Arkham and began running criminal operations again. After robbing a shopping store, Croc discovered a secret stairwell that led into an old unfinished subterranean highway. The tunnel had since become a shelter for many of Gotham's homeless. Croc became friends with the homeless people and attempted to make a new life for himself. Croc's newfound lifestyle was short-lived however. Batman investigated the store robbery, and the trail led him right to Killer Croc's shelter. The two began fighting one another, but at midnight, the city flushed the tunnels with water from the river, and Croc was washed away. His friends believed that he had died in the flood."

Steve moves a sweaty palm down the leg of his pants. "According to you though, he's alive, is he not?"

"Very much so." Waller answered, indifferently, as if a gigantic humanoid lizard seemingly immortal was something that occurred every day.

"It seems to me that those Batman kills does not remain dead for long."

"Ha," Waller barks out a laugh that startles Steve. "I've been saying that for years."

"Here we have, Tatsu Yamashiro, alias Katana. Unlike the rest of them, she's not a criminal but someone I've recommended to help and aid you with your handling of the team… Anyway, Miss Yamashiro was an average Japanese girl. Two brothers, Maseo and Takeo Yamashiro, both claimed their love for her. While she liked both, she chose Maseo. That of course, pissed off the other brother, Takeo, who refused to attend the couple's wedding. He had joined the Yakuza, as a result. After the deaths of Miss Yamashiro's parents, she and Maseo started a family of their own, and she gave birth to twins, Yuki and Reiko. Meanwhile, Takeo rose in rank of the Yakuza, and one of his exotic tastes included ancient weapons. He was presented with a pair of matched swords by General Karnz, one of which Takeo favored due to its mystical properties, which would come to be known as the Soultaker Sword. One night, soon after, Takeo took both swords to the Yamashiro's house to kill his brother with the sword. He killed his brother and Miss Yamashiro's family died in a fire. However, she did manage to claim the Soultaker Sword in the process. With Soultaker in her possession, Tatsu began training as a samurai under a master called Tadashi. After much time she graduated from his tutorship and left for America where she intended to use her talents to fight for justice. She took the codename Katana after the sword that she wielded."

Steve swallowed. "Where is she now, if not in Belle Reve?"

Waller tossed a file down on the small coffee table next to him. "We trusted her enough to allow her freedom to roam about. She won't go far."

With a shaking finger, he peeled the file open, peeking through it's contents to find a list of all of Katana's missions and past assignments. "And she agreed to this?"

"We offered and she made a vow to fight for justice." Waller stated, with a nonchalant shrug reaching into her breast pocket for a pack of cigarettes. "I didn't ask for details when she said yes."

"Looking at this track record, I can understand why…"

Waller pulled a cigarette into her mouth before offering him the pack. He stared at it for a brief moment, hesitating at first before pulling one himself. It had been a while since he had one of these. Ever since he started dating Diana, he had quit. Now, looking at the images of a massive lizard, an insane ex-psychiatrist, a sword wielding female with a vengeance, and marksman with more kills than the snipers he knew, he needed a drag. As if reading his mind, a lighter produced itself in front of his cigarette. The shaking from earlier grew firm after the first drag.

"You're catching on, Colonel Trevor…" She said with a smile that almost seemed genuine if not for the condescending tilt of her brow. "Next up we have Chato Santana, or as most of his victims know him, El Diablo. In all simplicity, the bastard is possessed by a demon. Not really much to it. He was a criminal, a drug dealer but unlike all of them, he had morals, and when he accidentally killed a building filled with women and children, he turned himself in."

He managed out with the cigarette dangling between his lips and files sitting in his lap. "Surprisingly, not all of these criminals sound dangerous… Just broken."

Waller tutted, flicking the loose ashes of her cigarette in the ashtray. Steve had to admit, there was something comforting about smoking in a dark room with a projection screen in front of him. Like the good old days.

"Always two sides to the same coin, Colonel."

Steve sighed but nodded and motioned towards an abandoned file next to him. "What about these two…? Rick Flag and June Moone?"

"Ah, those two. We'll only pull her out if it's a dire emergency and your team has been eliminated. General Lane has stressed ultimate discretion in this matter and Miss Moone doesn't exactly scream subtle. As for the man, he's her handler, fell in love with her, he did, and she, him. Flag can tame the beast within her, bring out the human, if you know what I mean…" Waller sighed out a breath of smoke and he watches absently as it fades into the air of the room.

"She's some sort of monster?"

"No, like El Diablo here, she's possessed by some evil spirit, but unlike the him, she can't control the darkness that possesses her."

Steve swallowed down the taste of nicotine. "Will I be meeting her as well?"

Waller laughs. "Only if you want to."

"This is…" Steve removes the cigarette from between his lips and breathes out a sigh, smoke emitting from his nostrils. "Quite a lot."

"Look, Trevor, you mind if I call you Trevor? No, you know what, nevermind, I don't care. Lane picked you specifically for this job for a reason and I obviously wouldn't be telling you all this if he didn't trust you to be capable of handling this. If you want to chicken out, go ahead, I can find someone else just as easily as I found you. You know how many men out there would kill to be in your position? Tens and thousands who would work harder, train harder, and fight harder. So… Trevor, you can either sack up and we can kick this in the ass. I don't have time for bullshit. Are we clear?"

The heavenly image of Diana's face appeared behind his eyes. A future. A life with her and suddenly his decision was clear.

"Crystal."

 **. . . . .**

 _Meanwhile in Gotham, Wayne Manor…_

She watches as the two exit the elevator, crystal tumblers in each of their hands. Bruce is smiling, something both genuine and foreign and Clark, still possesses the lost look in his eyes but a humorous beam masks him, no less real than Bruce's. He mutters something underneath his breath that only allows Bruce to hear and the man is tossing his head back, the smile loses its place only to be replaced with bright laughter. He shakes his head as the laughter begins to taper off and the two make their way towards the center of the Cave, where the cave's holonet table lies. The two separate, Bruce leaving Clark to go talk to Alfred who seemed to be holding a very interesting and humorous conversation with Arthur about the city of Atlantis. Tearing her eyes from the two men idly waiting for their counterparts, she looks towards the alien and does a quick sweep of his stature. His shoulders are hunched over again much to her disappointment. His unruly coal-mine hair is windswept; wild. She sighs, she may need to cut it again soon even if he won't like it. Moving down, she notices that hideous beard. No matter how many times she cuts it, it grows back faster and within the week. It irks her and damn near drives her mad. A little pride in appearance wouldn't hurt you, Kal-El, she remembers telling him when he first started rocking the careless look.

Absently, she runs a hand through her hair and sighs, realizing finally, that she was taking out her frustration on his appearance rather than the fact that he wouldn't even look at her. She shouldn't have said those things to him. It had been cruel really; and not even at all to do with him. Laying out all of his flaws and imperfections, before him and stating specifically why someone he actually cared for wouldn't want him, why he could never be what she wanted him to be, hell she practically shouted it at him all the while and then some. He has enough on his plate and here she is, bringing him down. Ripping into him when he's already on his knees, struggling to grasp onto anything solid. Anything real. Genuine. It was always a rarity to see Clark interested in something other than Martha and caring for the farm. And to see him so caught up and emotionally drained from one meeting with an Amazon, of all people, set something off in her, something she obviously, by the looks of him, couldn't contain. He found something, someone. And she's already torn it to pieces. She can blame it on her hatred for the Amazons but she knows that it isn't the case. No, she smiles bitterly, mournfully, and picks at the cotton of her pants, she knows that it is not the case.

Bruce finishes his conversation with Alfred and signals for the rest of the group to join him. Arthur grunts and moves to sit on the railing, looking over the edge in the slightest to see what lies beneath. A lake. He looks up and watches as the water's origin pelt down from overhead, an opening farther into the cave like that of a giant mouth. Before he can ask Bruce about it, the man is shoving a tumbler in his hand. Arthur silently thanks the man. It's a smaller amount than he's used to and he stares at it with his head tilted, knowing it won't be enough to quench his thirst. Mera gets up from her seat at the main computer and takes her time to join the men. Mera watches her husband with slight amusement before grabbing his glass. Clark hands her another but quickly turns away, narrowly avoiding her gaze. She sighs and pours her glass' contents into Arthur's, suddenly not feeling very thirsty at all.

Mera's face lifts in the slightest when she sees the elation and satisfaction brought back into her husband's eyes.

Bruce doesn't waste a moment before starting. He moves to the head of the table; Alfred hovers behind him in the back, hands linked behind him. The billionaire hunches over the table, one hand splayed out while the other makes holograms and videos appear out of thin air. He gestures towards one specific hologram before saying, "I've called you here today to discuss-"

"No pleasantries?" Mera hastily interrupts, arms folding over to settle on her chest. His steely gaze slides over to her in annoyed demure.

Arthur tilts his head and glances at him in turn, as well, before nodding once. "Darling, I think he believes this is one of his board meetings."

She scoffs, a hint of amusement hidden in her grin. "Wouldn't be surprised. Heartless bastard."

Bruce levels the two with a glare. "You mind?"

"No, please continue, Mr. Wayne," Mera comments under her breath.

Ignoring them, he continues on, "There has been a development... in relation to the Zod issue."

At this, Arthur stiffens, his earlier amusement quickly vanishing. He glances at Clark for confirmation, his brows furrowed in confusion and agitation. His brother nods once in response, the slightest bit of tension working its way into his jaw. Arthur hadn't been there when Clark defeated Zod. He'd been at home, protecting Martha and Jonathan, looking up at the ceiling as he heard the sound of thunder clash. No, all Arthur had seen was the pale shade of Clark's skin as he limped back into the house, black and purple bruises coloring his skin.

 _"He got away." He had said that night. Ma and Pa were already asleep and both brothers had sat in Arthur's makeshift boathouse on weak stools. It took time for Arthur; in fact only seconds to realize it was the first time he had ever seen Clark bleeding, from his nose, the corner of his eyes, his mouth. He had a small hole through his top right shoulder. It had been a horrible sight to see, such an immune being Arthur thought to have been taken down to that of the weaknesses of humans. His wounds were fighting hard to heal, causing him pain along the way without the support of the sun. Arthur had cringed, watching as Clark's skin had tried to knit itself back together, like white and bloody tendrils trying to bridge the gap. Yet, Clark stood still as a statue, grunting here and there. It was odd and something Arthur hadn't wanted to get used to seeing. It took around a full two hours before Clark was fully healed. He was out of breath by then and cleaning himself in the lake, surrounded by five crocodiles that watched him with curious eyes. He smiled at them softly, splashing water at them playfully to go on to bed. They went begrudgingly, one whipping him lightly with its tail. He bit back the hiss._

 _"Did he say anything when you kicked his ass?" Arthur had tried for humor, lips quirked up and eyes watching his brother idly. Carefully. He'd been acting weird ever since he got back. Clark wasn't one for talking but in this instance, Arthur knew there was something wrong._

 _"Yeah," Clark had breathed out towards the moon as if speaking to it instead of Arthur, hands casually wafting through the water and Arthur tried to ignore the blood washing away from them and into the lake. "He said the next time he sees me… He'd kill everything I ever loved and anything that ever loved me."_

"Turns out he's not alone this time…"

Arthur jolted out of the memory when he heard Bruce's voice, eyes immediately finding the man. Zod isn't alone. Not like last time when he had thought he was the only Kryptonian to inhabit Earth. No, he was serious this time and as Arthur looked towards Clark once more he imagined far more holes in his body than last time, much more blood, and a lot more paler.

"Scanners from the JLA Watchtower show a small fleet of Kryptonian ships orbiting the moon." Bruce's hand makes the slightest gesture and a small holograph at the corner of the table enlarges, showing a crisp outline of the moon with two to five ships orbiting around it. "It barely reaches the number of a full sized armada but with one quarter of the strength and powers you possess, Clark, it'll be large enough to disable the JLAs protective barrier and any military forces the world throws at it."

Mera's eyes find Clark. "I thought you said you were the only living survivor when Krypton was destroyed."

"That was years ago…" He answered, working his jaw, "Apparently, there were others who had the means to escape before the planet exploded… I don't know how but Zod somehow managed to locate them."

"Whoever they are… They spared no expense." Bruce motioned to the ships.

Clark's hands flex and twitch. "That is a Kryptonian warship, surrounding it, are freighter ships that hold soldiers, enough for about a hundred…"

He shakes his head and turns away, hands gripping the railing and the sound of metal denting; screeching echoes lowly in the cave. Bats squealed in annoyance and flapped their wings. A white hot hatred and anger was broiling within him, something that he had never experienced so intensely before. He closed his eyes, gluing them together to withhold the red beams that threatened to burst forth. They could've saved them, some of them at least.

"Clark."

He exhales, allowing his fingers to uncurl one by one from the railing and turned back towards the rest of the group with a terribly calm demeanor, eyes icy as the ocean. With one hand, he motioned towards the hologram, "The warship's armor is almost impenetrable but the surrounding ships are vulnerable to EMPs and anti-aircraft guns."

"Do you know why they haven't attacked yet? They have the power." Mera points out.

"The same reason he came here last time..." Clark states, arms crossing defensively over his chest, "To terraform Earth."

"If I may interrupt," Alfred says, raising a hand slightly to garner Clark's attention, "How would one conquer such a considerable feat?"

Clark sighs. "He'd need a ship, that would be the World Engine, he'd need satellites to act as a relay surrounding the Earth, and then… the Phantom Drive. Installing the Phantom Drive into the World Engine would create a beam of power that would shoot straight into the Earth's core and the relay would do so all around the world, creating different areas of entry that would allow the World Engine to begin terraforming Earth into… Krypton."

"Luckily enough for us, Kal, you have the World Engine at the Fortress right?" Arthur asks, straightening from his position against the railing and approaching the table.

"It's there… Collecting dust."

"We don't have time for luck. The Phantom Drive is still out there and holds far more power and importance than the Engine." Bruce states.

"All I know is that it's on Earth and I tried to obtain it as soon as it soon broke the Earth's atmosphere but I was too late. The humans mistook it as a… meteorite. It's now under the study of the Themysciran Embassy."

Mera sighed, "Of course it is."

"If it's there, we need not to worry about it. I don't doubt the Amazons can hold their own against the Kryptonians." Bruce expands, looking the alien up and down with goading ire.

Clark raised a brow.

"So, how does this include us, Bruce?" Arthur gestured towards the projection.

Bruce took in a deep breath, looking over at Alfred for a brief moment before turning back towards the table. His hands found both the corners of the table and he looked the three in their eyes, one by one. "I need you to help me stop this..."

"No."

Clark responded without missing a beat, arms unfolding, and rising from his rested position.

Bruce rose as well at the blatant sign of intimidation. "I know I said earlier how the League could handle Zod but that's not the case anymore… He has the support of a warship and entire fleets of Kryptonians that have been powered by the sun's rays for God knows how long. Kryptonite won't matter if they have a warship and guns."

"I said no Bruce… I got a lot on my plate already. I can't-"

"Clark, you don't understand how important this is… Your fear is clouding your judgement. You defeated Zod once, you can do it again."

"That was a long time ago, Bruce!" Clark shouts heatedly. "That was before Arthur and I were kidnapped, before Zod understood the powers Earth's sun could provide him, before I knew what saving the world would entail, before Zod threatened everyone I loved and cared about. I'm not going to give him the chance to take away everything I've worked so hard to protect. And even if I did manage to defeat a tanked up Zod, I'd be revealing myself once more to those assholes who took Arthur and I, who experimented on us like some sort of lab rats… You told me your JLA can handle it, so have faith in your team and let them handle it."

Bruce scoffs incredulously; bright eyes finding the Kryptonian's. "Yet you reveal yourself for a woman and a team that didn't need you?"

Clark's hands dig brutally into his biceps, tight fists beginning to form. "Without me, your team would be dead."

"Yeah? What about all the other times my team has been on the brink of death and haven't needed you."

Clark remains silent.

"Yeah, I heard about your little adventure and how it didn't end quite as you thought." Bruce comments, moving from the edge of the table closer to Clark. Mera cringes and looks away. Arthur watches on, ever the confused one, brows furrowed. "What were you thinking, huh? Going out and spending three hours with a woman you don't even know, alone in a Chinese restaurant, laughing and giggling and playing games. You didn't think you wouldn't be noticed?"

Bruce is in his face now, trying to look intimidating when he is just a mere five inches beneath him. Clark licks his lips and peers down at his shoes. Bruce doesn't back down.

His upper lip curls spitefully as he spits, "You give me this speal about how you can't fight Zod without revealing yourself… Yet, there you were… With a woman that didn't even want you."

Clark sniffs and with calculated strength punches the billionaire. Bruce is sent hurtling through the air, back hitting the surface of the table before toppling over the edge into the adjacent railing. He groans when the railing bites into his back. The force had torn Bruce's upper lip open and broken his nose. Alfred moves swiftly towards Bruce, crouching down next to him and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

Arthur, seeing the enraged sparkle in Clark's eyes, grabs his arm, trying to keep him at bay from tearing into Bruce. Clark looked down at the billionaire.

"We're done here."

With that being said Clark takes off into the night, followed by both Mera and Arthur.

Alfred watches on; concerned as Bruce wipes a generous amount of blood from his nose and huffs. Grabbing a handkerchief from his breast pocket, he hands it to him. "Master Wayne, I would think you'd know better than to poke the sleeping bear."

"I need him awake, Al," Bruce rasps, his earlier facade clearing from his face and morphing into that of something sober. "I hated what I had to say to him but now is not the time for friendships or kindness when shit is about to hit the fan… I need him angry for what comes next."

. . . . .

Clark lands haphazardly in the sand, feet almost tangling as he tries to catch himself, stumbling for a second, the shifting of the sand making it far more difficult than need be. All he wants to do is go to bed and fall asleep, where his dreams will be waiting for him with an alternate reality where life is far more easier. He scoffs and rubs at his face, fingers running through the hair there. He makes his way towards the bar's patio steps before taking a seat, ignoring the gigantic hole in the wall next to him and the accusing gaze of the agitated bartender. Sighing heavily through his nose, he leans back against the steps and closes his eyes, completely ignoring the way the King and Queen of Atlantis rise gracefully out of the water, eyes set on the slumped being in the chair.

"What happened to the bar?" Arthur all but shouts, ending his slow walk to pick up an agitated pace towards the gigantic hole. Under his eyelids, Clark rolls his eyes.

"Ask the alien." Will answered, hammer and nail in hand as he attached boards to close the gaping hole. "Had to close down the bar for the day because of this."

"William… Amscray. Clark and I will fix it, later." Arthur threw a thumb over his shoulder towards the ocean. William set down the hammer and nails and began to make his way down the beach, unbuttoning his shirt along the way. He shucked off the shirt and tossed his cleaning towel to the sand before diving into the water. Never rising. Arthur turns towards his lounging brother. "What's going on with you, Kal?"

Clark rubs at his eyes. Irritated; "I'm just tired, Arthur… You know, busy day."

Arthur nods and walks towards him before crouching down in front of him. He considers him for a moment, long wet hair sweeping in the wind. "You may be a good liar to everyone else, but not to me."

Clark huffs beneath the palm of his hands. It's a minute before he says anything else and Arthur takes the time to look at him, analyzing him. He'd been so busy in Atlantis he hadn't had the time to check on his brother and looking at him now, whatever he had done, it seemed to have taken a toll on him. His unkempt hair seemed wilder and his eyes had developed slight bags underneath them. The beard everyone seemed to hate was growing awry and ridiculously thick. His clothes were ragged but it wasn't just his outward appearance that had gotten Arthur but the way he acted now as well. His brother was at war with himself, his mind and heart tearing him apart, shredding him into bits and pieces for the outside world to feast upon. He was lost, the path that had seemed so clear long ago now blurred by a dense fog that now had Kal-El desperately trying to find a way. Martha had warned him about this, Clark's blatant attempt at keeping everything the same, never desiring the change. And who could blame him? So much has already happened. Changed, really. Clark has been trying desperately to be a good sport about it all but Arthur could see the depths of depression in his dimming blue eyes, the barely contained anger, the control that he had to express. Arthur was scared. Scared of what would happen to him when Martha would be taken away from them.

"I, uh... " Clark sniffs and takes in a deep breath. Arthur doesn't rush him, only grabbing him by the knee and moving it in the slightest. It keeps him grounded, Martha had told him one afternoon, sitting on the porch and watching John and Clark work the field while they ate peaches. Keep him grounded, he remembers, even if he desires the flight, don't allow him to get lost in the clouds. "I… I visited ma today."

Arthur nodded, his silent consent for him to continue.

"She is so weak, Arthur." Clark chokes out and his body is tense. Arthur can tell he's holding back tears, holding back the part within him that wants to scream his sadness. It's hard, he knows, holding back the tide. "I should've realized sooner…"

"Hey," Arthur shoots up and wraps his arms around him, tightly. Never letting go. "We cannot fight human nature, Kal... It is beyond us. No matter how strong we are, no matter where we come from, or the powers we hold, there's no denying the powers of mother nature. It is not our choice in who lives or dies. Our only choice is what we do during their lifetime. No one can mess with the laws of life and death. She taught me that, she taught you that."

Clark nods into his shoulder. "I just wish we had longer."

"Me too, Kal."


End file.
